


The Life and Times of Calla Potter: The Beginning Years

by lefoxthescot



Series: The Life and Times of Calla Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Potter Twins, harry has a twin sister fic, i'm trash for this trope, sister trope, sorry babes, wrote this starting like a year ago whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 00:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lefoxthescot/pseuds/lefoxthescot
Summary: AU. Calla has always been hiding. From bullies, from the Dursleys, from the teachers who only ever noticed when she didn't pay them rapt attention. But when she and her twin brother, Harry, begin at Hogwarts, she must come out of the shadows and face the world, no matter what it means for her.





	1. The Early Years

Halloween Night, 1981  
There was a shadowy figure in the garden. Illuminated in a window were a mother and father playing with their children, twins who giggled as they clutched one another and crawled over the floor, content in their little bubble with each other and their parents. Not for long.

The hooded figure shifted, stepping on a twig, and the man inside, one James Potter, whirled around. "Lily," he whispered, laugh from not one minute ago vanishing into thin air. "Lily, it's him."

"Oh god," Lily breathed. "It is."

"Take them," James said, hazel eyes wide with fear. "Take Harry and Calla and go. I'll hold him off!"

"James!" Lily cried, rushing to the hallway and the bottom of the stairs as a cloaked figure thumped on the door. "What about you?"

"I'll hold him off," James said simply, biting his lip. He'd left his wand in the kitchen, and so had Lily. There would be no fight for them, no fight except the battle for their children. "Go!"

"I love you," Lily sobbed, holding her children tight to her chest.

"I love you too," James said, tightening his jaw as his wife disappeared up the stairs and the door fell down.

There was a flash of green light, and James Potter's life disappeared.

"Mummy loves you," Lily Potter murmured to her children, standing curiously in their crib. "Daddy loves you."

The children simply blinked, the enormity of the situation lost on their young minds. "Be brave, Calla, Harry. Be brave for us."

The nursery door was pushed in. "Not my children," Lily Potter said, staring into the eyes of Lord Voldemort. "Don't touch my children."

"Give me your son," he hissed. "And you needn't come to any harm."

"You've already killed my husband," Lily said, tears pricking at her eyes. "You will not get near my children. Not Calla, and definitely not Harry."

"Very well," Lord Voldemort said, raising his wand with a cruel smile. "Avada Kedavra!"

Lily Potter fell to the ground, one last thought in her mind: he would not harm her children.

"And now for you, boy," Voldemort hissed, staring at the small child in his crib, holding his sister's hand. "Avada Kedavra."

This time, there was another flash of green light. Lord Voldemort fell to the ground, and the air swam with electricity and magic, dark magic, foul magic, smothering the two children. Calla began to cry and Harry held her hand tighter, his one year old mind confused by the two bodies laying on the floor. Why was his mummy sleeping, and who was this strange, pale man? Where was their daddy?

A darkness swirled in the air, dancing around Harry and Calla like a galloping horse, before it seeped into Harry's open mouth, into Calla's salty tears.

It was hours before anyone came to find them, a strange man with a hooked nose and greasy man, who definitely wasn't Uncle Moony or Padfoot, or Wormtail, or the funny old man with strange glasses who came over every once in a while. He barely spared the crying girl and the scared boy a second glance as he cradled the cold body of their mother while the children looked on in confusion.

It took a while for the greasy haired man to leave, and as the sun rose on Godric's Hollow, two men burst into the nursery. Calla and Harry were asleep now, but awoke at the sound of footsteps and looked up. Uncle Padfoot, a man who was far more familiar than the other one. Neither twin could make out quite what he was saying, and they were about to cry when they left, replaced by a tall and slightly scary man who had a strangely gentle smile as he scooped them up in his ginormous arms, taking them away from this broken house.

September 13th 1986  
Calla and Harry stood outside Number Four Privet Drive in school uniforms, hiding behind their cousin Dudley. Dudley was a large boy, appearing especially plump in front of his scrawny cousins. He had on very shiny school shoes and smart trousers, with a hat resting atop his blonde head of hair.

"Doesn't he look wonderful, Vernon?" Petunia Dursley cooed, smushing her son's fat red cheeks. "Our little Didykins is all grown up!"

Calla frowned, looking around her with crossed arms. Uncle Remus had said that he would come around for her and Harry's first day of school. He was Calla's godfather, and although he wasn't allowed custody of either twin, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never seemed able to stop his visits.

A car came to a stop behind them in the driveway and Calla turned around, jumping excitedly. "Uncle Remus!" she squealed, running to greet him. "You're late!"

"Calla!" Aunt Petunia scolded. "Don't make a scene like that," she said crossly, but Remus chuckled, kneeling down beside the twins.

"Are you excited for your first day of school, you two?" he asked, and they both nodded. "I loved school. That's where I was friends with your mummy and daddy."

Aunt Petunia coughed. "As always, it is a pleasure to see you, Remus," she said, in a tone that indicated it was never a pleasure to see Remus Lupin. "But we can't have Dudley being late on his first day because of you and those two."

"Of course," Remus said with a cold politeness. "Mind if I walk down there with you all?"

Uncle Vernon looked like he would mind a lot, but Remus took the hands of both Calla and Harry, gesturing for the rather irritated looking Dursleys to follow them. Calla and Harry grinned at each other from each side of Remus.  
School was going to be more fun than Privet Drive. They promised themselves that, at least.

December 25th 1990  
"Merry Christmas," Calla sighed as the clock ticked over to morning. The inside of her cupboard was full of spiderwebs and speckles of dirt.

"Merry Christmas, Calla," her brother sighed back, lifting a groggy hand over his eyes. "Do you want a spider as a present?"

"Better than a tissue from the Dursleys," Calla huffed, snuggling closer to her brother. The coldness of midwinter still crept into their bones and Calla shivered despite her closeness to Harry. "What time do you think Uncle Moony'll be round here?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "Aunt Petunia said he was coming for tea. I'm not sure if she'll even let him come - he didn't last year."

By the time the clock ticked forwards to five o'clock, Calla was getting anxious. She hadn't seen Uncle Moony in ages, but he'd said that he'd be there, he promised. She and Harry sat at the table, with the smallest and thinnest slices of turkey, gazing hungrily at Dudley's heaped plate. The doorbell rang and Calla jumped up like an excited puppy.

"Uncle Moony!" she squealed as Aunt Petunia opened the door, inviting in her godfather.

"Merry Christmas, you two," Uncle Moony said, smiling with his wan face. "Do you want to see what I've got you two and Dudley?"

They both nodded excitedly, as Uncle Moony produced three wrapped presents. For Dudley, he gave a set of colouring pencils which the ungrateful pig tossed aside without even so much as a thank you. Harry took a large book about history which he gawked at in excitement before engulfing Uncle Moony in a hug. As for Calla, she simply shrieked with excitement when she unwrapped her gift, a full set of the Famous Five novels by Enid Blyton. "Thank you, Uncle Moony!" she cried, jumping up and down with joy.

Best. Christmas. Ever.


	2. The Wizarding World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is where the story properly begins! I picked it up just after Hagrid meets the Dursleys and the Potters, due to the fact that prior to this the story remains much the same as it did in the original books. Also, in this AU Remus was not allowed custody because of Dumbledore's opposal to it, both because of the blood protection with Petunia and the fact that he is a werewolf. Though he's able to make them happier, he unfortunately has little power over the Dursleys to prevent them from mistreating the Potters in his absence.

August 1st 1991  
In the space of less than a month, Calla's life had been turned completely upside down. First, her bully of a cousin, Dudley, had been 'attacked' by a snake on his birthday and trapped in its enclosure; second, she and her brother had began to receive letters in the post addressed to them, though they'd never been allowed to read them; and thirdly, last night on her birthday, a ridiculously tall man had knocked down the door of the tiny cabin their aunt and uncle had holed them all up in and told her and her brother that they were a witch and wizard.

Altogether, it was a bit mad.

She stirred from the ground by the sound of her brother talking to said ridiculously tall man, discussing owls and Hogwarts - the school she and Harry were supposed to be attending. "Morning, Calla!" Harry said brightly, a proud beam on his lips. "Hagrid says he's going to take us to Diagon Alley today to get our things for school!"

Calla stared. She assumed Diagon Alley was a shopping centre or street, like Oxford Street in London, but she was a tad perplexed by how immediately accepting of their abilities he was. Not that she didn't want any excuse to get out of the hellhole they were forced to call home, but she had to admit she was sceptical about this man, even if he had more friendly bones in his - admittedly large - finger than the Dursleys had in all their bodies. "Okay."  
"You don't seem very excited," Harry said, laughing slightly.

"Forgive me for being tired, brother dear," she teased, turning to Hagrid, who was watching this exchange with an affectionate smile. "What time are we leaving, sir?"

"Aye, ye can just call me Hagrid," Hagrid chuckled. "We can leave whenever ye want to, ye two."

Exchanging a warm smile, the Potters replied in synchronisation, "Now."

Calla had thought, originally, that Diagon Alley would be a bit like the shopping streets of London, but she soon found out that this assumption was wrong. For starters, they had to go through a rather smokey pub to get to the street, and it was there that Calla saw the first evidence that she and Harry were, in fact, famous.

"The usual, Hagrid?" the bartender asked with a crooked smile, but Hagrid waved a dismissive hand.

"Can't today, Tom. I'm on official Hogwarts business. Gotta get Calla and Harry here their school supplies."

A smothering hush descended over the pub, and Calla shifted awkwardly, fiddling with the edge of her ratty sleeves. Aunt Petunia had always insisted on her wearing lovely 'ladylike' clothes, and as a general rule, Calla had grown to hate the disgusting pastel flowers she was always clothed in, though she supposed it was a damn sight better than Dudley's awful old clothes that Harry was forced to wear. She decided right then that the second she could, she was going to get herself some new clothes. Ones that didn't make her look like someone's gran's curtains.

"Calla and Harry Potter?" someone asked, breaking the silence as Calla shrank behind Hagrid. "Can it really be?"

All at once, like a dam breaking, people rushed towards them, shaking their hands and exclaiming about "How wonderful to have you both back!" and "Honoured to meet you both, Potters!" While Harry reluctantly shook hands, Calla shuddered behind Hagrid, hiding her face and her awful scar behind ebony hair and wishing they could just go now.

She tugged on Hagrid's coat and her pleading green eyes must have softened something in him, for he cleared his throat and took Harry's hand. "Got a lot to do, these two," he said loudly, and wizards and witches nodded in understanding. "We'll be off now."

Calla smiled at Hagrid gratefully as he led them outside and she could breathe again, string up at the blue sky. Still, the place they were in didn't look like much of a shopping street, even if it was magical. She was about to speak up when Hagrid tapped the wall before them with his pink umbrella, which Calla thought made a rather unconventional wand, and the bricks began sliding out, revealing a cobbled street before them.

Brightly painted storefronts lined the pavement, with signs proclaiming these shops 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' and 'Flourish and Blotts Booksellers'. Calla took a moment to take it in before she had to hurry along, struggling to keep up with her brother and Hagrid. "But Hagrid," Harry was saying, "how on Earth are we going to afford all this? The Dursleys won't pay for anything."

"What?" Hagrid chuckled. "Ye think yer parents didn't leave ye nothin'? Ye'll get yer money in Gringotts - Wizarding bank, run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Calla echoed, though she didn't think she should be surprised. Witches, wizards, goblins? What else was new?

"What are they like?" Harry pressed, eyes wide. "Are they magic too?"

"Course they are," Hagrid laughed. "But don't go letting them hear ye like that - proud creatures, goblins. Ye won't want to insult them, even by accident."

Stepping inside the bank, Calla found her mouth falling into an 'o' shape. White marble made up the walls, and small, wrinkled creatures with hooked noses leaned over counters, faces fixed into seemingly permanent scowls. Harry and Calla were both taken aback by what they saw, but Hagrid strode on to a desk, seeming unfazed by what he saw. Then again, he'd probably been here a number of times, and goblins were unlikely to be a surprise to him.

"Calla and Harry Potter wish to access their vault," Hagrid said proudly, beaming at the dark haired twins.

The goblin regarded them carefully, squinting with cold eyes. "And do Calla and Harry Potter have their key?"

"Oh," Hagrid said, stuffing hands into his pockets. "I'm sure I've got it around here somewhere - aha!"

Producing a wrought iron key, Hagrid set it down on the table with a grin. "Very well," the goblin said in a snarl. "Right this way, please."

Needless to say, the cart ride to the vault did not do wonders for Calla's stomach. By the time it came to a stop, she was ready to throw up, and almost fainted on the spot when she entered the vault. As Hagrid explained magical money to Harry, she scooped the golden coins, which would likely be the most valuable, into a little velvet pouch and eyed some of the jewellery which lay on the shelves around the room. There gleamed any number of rubies set into silver chains and ring bands, and Calla's eyes widened.

"Hagrid?" she called. "Is all this jewellery ours, too?"

"Everythin' in 'ere belongs to you two," Hagrid said with a nod. "Though I'm not so sure that aunt and uncle of yours would let ye keep any of it if you brought jewellery home."

She supposed Hagrid was right, and with a sigh Calla dragged her gaze away from the jewellery, instead scooping up a few of the silver and bronze coins before she decided her money pouch was well full enough.  
"Now," Hagrid was saying to the goblin, "I've got a letter here from Albus Dumbledore. About the You-Know-What in Vault Number 713."

The goblin nodded, taking the letter and scanning it. "Of course."

Calla was expecting something similar to their vault, full of glistening gold and silver and bronze and rubies, so it was with a vague sense of disappointment that she peered inside Vault 713 And saw nothing but a grubby old package wrapped in brown paper. Hagrid scooped it up instantly, and it's size was nothing in comparison to Hagrid's wide palms.

"Right now," Hagrid muttered as they broke back out into the sunlight. "I think I'll go to the Leaky Cauldron for a little pick me up. Don't like those Gringotts cars..."  
He showed them the way to Madam Malkins where they could get their robes and proceeded to the Leaky Cauldron for a 'pick me up'.

"Hogwarts, dears?" asked the witch in the shop. "I've got another young boy being fitted through here, come along."

Passing through the shop, Calla caught sight of herself in a mirror. She hadn't brushed her hair since yesterday, and scowled at her messy curls. Still, at least they covered the scar at the side of her forehead. It was an S shape, like her brother's except curved, and Calla thought in some ways it was even worse than Harry's scar. At least he didn't feel pain every time he touched his scars.

"Cal!" Harry called, and Calla dragged herself out of her thoughts to follow him and the witch to where a pale, blond haired boy sat on a stool.

"Hogwarts?" the blond drawled, nose turned upwards slightly, as though there was something rotten underneath it.

"Yes," Harry said, and Calla nodded in agreement as a young witch started pinning robes around her, the long sleeves leaving an air around her wrists. Robes seemed rather ... unique, to say the least, but they were still far better than Aunt Petunia's handmedowns.

"Me too," the blond drawled. "My mother and father are next door looking at books, but I'm going to drag them off to look at brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies later. I think it's ridiculous that first years aren't allowed their own brooms, don't you? I think I'll bully father into buying one for me anyway." Calla narrowed her eyes. The boy spoke a little like Dudley did, and she felt her lip curl in distaste. "Have you two got your own brooms?"

They both shook their heads, Calla staring at the boy. "Play any Quidditch?" he asked, and Calla had to admit she had no idea what he was on about, making a mental note to find out what Quidditch was by the time they got to Hogwarts. "I think I'll try out for the house teams. Father says it'll be a crime if I'm not picked." He paused for a moment, as though waiting for them to say something, before he asked, "Know what houses you'll be in yet?"  
Again, they shook their head. "No," Harry said, at the same time Calla asked, "What houses are there?"

The blond boy frowned. "What do you mean what houses are there?" he asked, looking down his nose at her. "You're not a mudblood, are you, girl?"

Calla recoiled at his tone, and Harry immediately snarled. "Don't talk to her like that," he said. "She just asked a question. And what's a mudblood anyway?"

The blond sneered, and Calla grew to like him even less with every passing second, a feat only the Dursleys had achieved before. "I assume neither of you are of Wizarding blood, then?"

Before Calla could stop him from putting his foot in it - couldn't he think not to provoke this boy - Harry snarled, "We are actually, for your information."

The blond laughed. "Oh, really? Prove it - what family are you from. I'm a Malfoy - you don't get much purer blood than that."

At this, Calla had to hold back her own snarl. Purer blood? Geez, this boy was like a little magical Nazi in the making. "Potter," Harry said, glaring at Malfoy, whose eyes widened. "I'm Harry, and this is my twin sister Calla, and no, we will not shake your hand."

Calla snorted at the astonished look on Malfoy's face as the witch told them they could go now and they paid quickly, hurrying out before Malfoy could think of a comeback to that. The second they exited the store, they smacked into Hagrid, who looked like he was about to say something before he realised who it was. "Harry, Calla. You're out quick!"

They simply nodded, and Hagrid took them to ice cream, seeming to notice their mildly distressed looks. As Harry and Calla bit into their ice creams, Harry asked, "What's Quidditch?"

"Blimey!" Hagrid cried, attracting a few stares. "I forgot how much you two don't know. Imagine not knowing about Quidditch." The twins exchanged a confused glance - Hagrid wasn't really helping.

As Harry went on to explain what had happened in the robes shop with the Malfoy boy, with casual interjections from Calla, Calla watched the shoppers passing by outside the window of the ice cream parlour. She spotted the Malfoy boy hurrying past with two people who could only be his parents, as well as a whole horde of red haired boys and two people who looked like their mother and sister, as well as a short girl with bushy hair carrying a stack of books, followed by two rather confused looking adults. There was also a blonde girl who skipped along with a younger looking girl in front of their parents, and a round faced boy clutching a toad, accompanied by a stern-looking, elderly witch.

"So, what are the Hogwarts houses then?" Harry asked finally, and Calla gave Hagrid her attention.

"Well, let's see, there's Gryffindor for a starters," Hagrid said, puffing out his chest. "That's the house yer parents were in. Brave and noble, Gryffindors, that's my house too." The way he spoke, it was like Gryffindor was the only way to go, and Calla admitted she'd like to be in the same house her parents had once been in. "Then there's Hufflepuff. Ever'one says Hufflepuff are a bunch of duffers, but they're good students. Trustworthy, nice. And Ravenclaw, that's where all the smart ones go, they value intelligence, individuality. And then, Slytherin. That's where that Malfoy boy's be no doubt. There ain't a wizard or witch who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."  
In that case, Calla thought, the Malfoy boy was sure to be a Slytherin. Then again, he'd seemed half decent until he started talking.

After they were done with their ice creams, they set off exploring again. While Harry searched for their schoolbooks, Calla set off in search of a fiction section, hoping to find something like the Enid Blyton books she'd borrowed from the school library one day when her teacher let her go at lunchtime. It took half an hour before she gave up and resigned herself to finding out about the more exciting aspects of magic. She picked up books on Magizoology, Potions, Divination, and Ancient Runes, before also settling on a textbook about the First Wizarding War And You-Know-Who, figuring it might help her to better understand what she was.

They also stopped in the apothecary and a few other shops, before finally going to get their wands. Calla didn't honestly think the wand shop was all that impressive. On the outside in shabby, peeling letters, read 'Ollivander Makers Of Fine Wands', and the interior didn't exactly compensate for its lack lustre appearance.

Shelves were stacked high with slim boxes, each labelled with words Calla couldn't quite make out, even with her glasses. "Hello?" Harry said, his voice wavering. The twins jumped back in surprise when a man appeared, smiling at them.

"Good afternoon," the man said, and Calla shivered. "Calla and Harry Potter. Yes, yes I wondered when I would be seeing you two. Both with Lily's eyes - why, it seemed like only yesterday she was here buying her first wand. Ah yes..." he trailed off, and Calla felt unnerved, instinctively pulling her hair farther over her scarred forehead. "And those would be the scars there, Harry, Calla. I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it."

Calla's breath caught in her throat. To think that Voldemort, the man who'd murdered her parents and tried to do the same to her and her brother, had been here, perhaps stood in this very spot... She turned away from Ollivander's gaze, and clutched Harry's arm.

"Yes," Ollivander said brightly, seeming to have cleared his thoughts. He looked away from Hagrid - had they been speaking? Calla had no idea - and instead focused on Harry and Calla. "Now, as for your wands..."

Half an hour and twenty seven wands later, Harry had finally found his wand. "Holly and phoenix feather," Ollivander said, with a troubled gaze. "Curious."

Calla blinked, exchanging confused looks with Harry, a practice that seemed to be becoming a trend. "What's curious, sir?" Calla asked, frowning.

But Ollivander wasn't looking at Calla. "It's curious," he said, tilting his head, "that this wand should choose you, when it's brother was the one which gave you that scar." He pointed somewhat rudely at Harry's forehead and he gulped, Calla shifting in front of him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, glaring at Ollivander. "And it's rude to point."

Ignoring her latter comment, Ollivander whispered, "The Phoenix that gave the feather in your wand gave another feather, just one other." He didn't say anything more, but Calla knew what he meant, and she felt Harry stiffen behind her.

"Okay," she said, frowning. "So? That doesn't mean anything, not really. What about my wand?"

It Ollivander found this rude, he didn't show it, simply flouncing over to find another box from his shelves. "Give it a wave," he said simply, and Calla took the wand, moving to stand beside Harry once more.

She was much easier to find a wand for, as it was on her fourth go that she found a wand with elder and unicorn hair. Ollivander looked troubled at this, but held his tongue, probably concerned about how to go about delivering whatever pretentiously melancholy news he had to offer Calla.

"This wand," he said slowly, gesturing to the white stock of elder held in Calla's hand, "is powerful, young Miss Potter. I wonder if it is safe in the hands of one so tied to the Dark Lord..."

"It's perfectly safe with her," Harry said, glaring at Ollivander in much the same way as Calla had earlier. "She's a good person."

"No, no, I don't doubt that," Ollivander said hastily. "But still, I wonder..."

Calla decided to lève it at that, and the twins promptly offered to pay, before leaving the store, standing outside crossly with Hagrid. Twirling her wand in her hands, Calla stroked the top of it, the curving spiral of the handle that fit perfectly in her palm. But Ollivander's echoing words still chilled her, and she grasped her brother's hand tight.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, they're off to Hogwarts! Harry and Calla are on course to meet not just Ron and Hermione, but also Daphne Greengrass and Padma Patil.

September 1st 1991  
The drive to London had been awkward to say the least. Uncle Moony had joined them for the journey, eager to see Calla and Harry off to Hogwarts, perhaps less eager to see Dudley getting his pig's tail removed. He'd shown up at Privet Drive the day after Harry and Calla had gone to Diagon Alley, and though the Dursleys were originally disgusted by Uncle Moony being not only a wizard, but a werewolf too, their fear of him eventually won out and they let him inside to see the Potters.

After he'd regaled Harry and Calla with several of his own Hogwarts stories, he'd decided to take them with him to King's Cross on September 1st, and the Dursleys were too afraid of him to disagree. He'd explained to them the Hogwarts houses, and informed Calla of all the rules of Quidditch, and both twins ended up firmly deciding that they wanted to be Gryffindors, definitely.

And so, at a quarter past ten on September 1st, Remus Lupin stepped out of the Dursleys' well polished car with Harry and Calla on either side of him. "I'm sorry I could never have looked after you both when you were younger," he said, crouching so he was at their height. "I wasn't allowed to have custody of either of you because of my condition, but never doubt that I care for you both, and I have waited for this moment ever since you two were born. Your mother and father and I," he paused, as though thinking over his words. "Your mother and father and I, we always said we'd all see you two off together. I'm sorry they cannot be here today, but know that if they could see you now they would be so, so proud."

Calla felt tears blossoming in her eyes and moved with Harry to hug Uncle Moony, but the moment was lost when Uncle Vernon coughed loudly, beady eyes glaring at the Potters and Uncle Moony.  
"Yes, yes, this is all very sentimental," he huffed. "But we've got to get Dudley to his appointment, and we don't want to be waiting around on you three again."

Uncle Moony smirked. "Ah, no problem, you Dursleys go on ahead. I'll just fly home."

Aunt Petunia spluttered and Dudley's eyes widened in terror, hands going instinctively to fearfully clutch his bottom. Calla and Harry both held back laughs, as Uncle Vernon slammed the car door. "Get in, Petunia, Dudley. We can leave these ones to find their own way."

With a final sneer, the Dursleys disappeared into the car and revved up, almost knocking Calla and Harry over as they pulled out of a parking space, zooming away from view.

"Now," Uncle Moony said, smiling. "What do you say we go and find Platform Nine and Three Quarters?"

"Yeah!" Calla and Harry said in unison, beaming as they hauled their cages containing their owls, Uncle Moony handling their trunks. After much deliberation in Diagon Alley, Calla had decided to get herself a tawny owl instead of a black cat, and she'd named it Moony after her uncle, a fact which brought tears to his eyes when she told him. As for Harry, he'd chosen a snowy white owl that he'd named Hedwig after reading a history book, the only textbook he'd bothered to pick up. Calla had tried for the last month to try and get him to read one of their textbooks - 'we want to at least know what we're getting ourselves into' - but Harry had only skimmed 'Hogwarts: A History' and 'The Standard Book Of Spells: Volume I' before giving up and taking out one of Calla's Enid Blytons.

As they darted through the station, Calla passed the same red headed family she'd spotted in Diagon Alley when they went there with Hagrid, and offered a wave to the smallest boy, who looked faintly ill as his family bustled along. "Now," Uncle Moony said, standing between Platforms Nine and Ten, "getting onto the platform is simple. All you have to do is run at that wall between the platforms."

They both stared at him. Had Calla's godfather finally gone bonkers? "Are you sure about that, Uncle Moony?" Calla asked slowly, frowning.

"Of course I am," Uncle Moony chuckled. "Go on, you can do it together, and I'll see you on the other side okay."

He gave them both quick hugs and the twins exchanged nervous glances before resolving to take it at a run. Pushing their trolleys, and earning hoots of malcontentment from both their owls, they rushed towards the barrier and felt themselves enveloped in darkness for a moment, before they emerged onto a bustling train station platform. The train blew steam from its top and whistled loudly as the twins checked the time on the clock. It was quarter to eleven now, and they both wanted to make sure they could get a compartment on the train, so once Uncle Moony game through he helped them with their trunks onto the train and smiled, telling them to come see him for a proper goodbye once they'd found a compartment.

"This one looks empty?" Calla said, peeking into a compartment. "Come on, Harry, don't take all day."

"Alright, Calla, alright," Harry laughed, as they stowed their trunks away and went to the open window, peering out across the platform.

"Uncle Moony!" Harry shouted, and Calla's godfather turned to them with a smile, waving as he came closer.

"I see you've found a compartment, then," he chuckled, looking up at them.

"Yeah," Calla said, giggling. "Uncle Moony, what do you think we should do if that blond boy from Diagon Alley comes in?"

"I said we should curse him," Harry said, smirking with a hint of malice.

"But I said I could just take his eye out with one of my colouring pencils."

Uncle Moony snorted with laughter, before composing himself and smiling in affection. "If he's a prat, I'd do both," he said. "But try not to get detention on your first day, alright?"

"We'll do our best, Uncle Moony!" Calla giggled, giving a mock salute. The clock was ticking further now, and it was five to eleven.

Uncle Moony must have noticed this, for his expression softened. "Now, before the train pulls away, do you remember what I told you two?"

"Be nice to your teachers," Calla said.

"Make sure you do your homework properly."

"Work hard."

"Don't get too many detentions."

"Don't get into trouble."

"And have fun!" they chorused together, earning a chuckle from Uncle Moony.

"Spot on, you two," he laughed. It was one minute to eleven, and the train's engines began to rumble slowly as Harry and Calla's eyes widened in delight.

"Don't miss us too badly!" Calla called, laughing.

"We promise to write every day!"

"And to be top of our classes!"

"We love you, Uncle Moony!" they shouted, as the clock struck eleven and the platform slowly, slowly, slipped out of view.

The Potter twins reclined in the compartment for a short while, Calla doodling in the nearly full sketchbook Uncle Moony got her for last Christmas, Harry reading one of the Famous Five books he'd gotten Calla to temporarily part with. "What do you think Hogwarts will be like, Harry?" Calla asked, breaking the soft silence between them. "Do you think everyone will like us?"

"I dunno," Harry replied, putting his book down. "I hope so, except from that Malfoy boy. I didn't like him that much."

"He looked like a narcissistic ferret on steroids," Calla said bluntly, and Harry choked with laughter.

"Well, you're not wrong," Harry laughed, propping his feet up beside his sister.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and a lanky, freckled, red haired boy poked his head around, frowning. "Do you mind if I sit with you two?"

Calla glanced at Harry nervously, unsure about this boy, but Harry nodded with a grin. "Course you can."

"Neat," the boy said, plopping himself down on the seat.

"Is this one of the boys that you saw in Diagon Alley, Cal?" Harry asked, regarding the ginger boy curiously. The tops of the boy's ears went red and his eyes widened as Calla nodded, but Harry hastily covered it up, sensing that he didn't want to talk about it. "So, are your family all wizards then?"

"Yeah," ginger said cagily. "Why, are you some sort of pure bloods?"

"Purebloods?" Harry asked, bewildered. "No. We, er... we were raised by muggles, if that's what you mean."

"Oh," the boy said. "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter," Harry said, not noticing how Ron's eyes widened. "And this is my sister, Calla."

"Are you really?" Ron asked, breathlessly. "Have you got the - the scars?"

Personally, Calla didn't want to show her scar to this boy - they'd barely known each other five minutes, honestly - but Harry pushed his fringe back to reveal his lightning and Calla supposed she ought to do the same, shifting her hair to reveal the serpent like S by her hairline.

"Whoa," Ron said, and Calla supposed he must be seriously lacking in the sensitivity department as he proceeded to ask, "Do you remember what happened when, you know... he came by?"

Harry seemed lost for a moment, and so Calla dove in. "No. And no offence to you, but even if he did, it's not the kind of thing we like to share, if you know what I mean." While this wasn't a total lie - both of them had had dreams of green light and high cackling voices - Calla meant what she said. This Ron boy seemed alright, but if he wanted to push into her and her brother's privacy, Calla was going to have issues.  
"Oh." Ron looked down abashedly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's okay," Harry said, neither twin knowing quite what to say. "So, how many brothers do you have?"

Ron groaned. "Five, and a little sister. Bill's the oldest, he's a curse breaker for Gringotts - he was head boy, too - then there's Charlie, who was Quidditch Captain and now he works with dragons in Romania. They've both left Hogwarts now, but Percy's in fifth year, and he's a bit of a prat sometimes, especially now he's a prefect. Then Fred and George - they're twins like you two, except identical - and they're annoying most of the time. They play loads of pranks, but they're a laugh too. Then there's Ginny, my little sister. She's going to Hogwarts next year, but she still complains all the time about not getting to go. She's annoying, too."

"What house were they all in?" Harry asked, and Calla rolled her eyes. One was a curse breaker and one worked with dragons, but sure Harry, go and ask about their houses.

"Gryffindor," Ron said with a touch of glowing pink pride. "That's where they all say I'll be, but I bet I wind up in Hufflepuff anyway," he added with a touch of gloom.

"I bet you won't be," Harry told Ron kindly. "Right, Calla?"

"Sure. You probably know lots of magic already, but anyway it's better Hufflepuff than Slytherin, right?"

"Suppose you're right," Ron said with a shrug.

They passed a while in amicable conversation before Calla got bored of doodling and rare interjection into the boys' conversation, choosing to go explore the train instead. The corridor was fairly boring actually, and Calla was about to return to Harry and Ron when she saw a short bushy haired girl walking along, head buried in a book. As though sensing Calla's presence, the girl looked up in mild surprise.

"Hello!" the girl said, startling Calla. Her book hung from one hand by her side, and Calla caught the name of Roald Dahl.

"Hello," Calla said back timidly, green eyes wide with curiosity at the girl.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself as, sticking out a hand. "And you are?"

"Calla Potter," Calla replied nervously, offering a shy smile as Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Are you really?" she asked breathlessly. "I've read about you, and your brother of course. Is he on the train too?"

"Um, yes?" Calla replied, shrinking in on herself a little.

"You both are in so many books. Is it true you were raised by muggles?" Calla nodded. "I was too, I'm a muggleborn, when we got the letter it was ever such a surprise, but my parents are very proud of me of course, it's all very exciting."

Hermione kept talking and they ended up strolling together down the corridor, quiet conversation turning into a surprisingly loud discussion about 'Matilda'. "D'you want to sit with me and my brother?" Calla asked, surprising herself. "There's another boy there called Ron, too, he's from a wizard family and he knows loads about Hogwarts."

"I'd love to!" Hermione said, a grin lighting up her face, and something told Calla she hadn't had anyone else to sit with.

But when they reached the compartment, Calla was greeted by an unpleasant head of blond hair, and from the stuck up words and nasal voice, she knew precisely who it belonged to.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she heard Ron say, and she and Hermione gave each other joint looks of concern.

"What are you gonna do, blood traitor?" Malfoy hissed, As Hermione came up behind him, hands on hips.

"I hope you aren't fighting," she said bossily, and Calla saw Malfoy round on her with a snarl.

"Who are you?" he snarled.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, tilting her chin up. "You?"

The boy didn't reply to her question, simply sneering at her. "Granger. I don't know that name - mudblood, are you?"

"You take that back!" Ron said, leaping to his feet and pointing his wand at a quivering Malfoy's throat.

"And what are you going to do about it, Weasel?" He cast a glance over the boys, then at Calla and Hermione, sneering. "Come on, Crabbe, Goyle. Let's leave these three with the mudblood."

With that, he swept away, two brutes following after him. "It's almost time to get ready," Hermione said. "Calla, we should probably get changed - you boys should, too."

Hermione began walking away, as Harry and Ron stared at Calla blankly. "Who was that?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Hermione Granger," Calla replied with a smile. "She likes Roald Dahl."


	4. The Sorting Hat

September 1st  
When the train finally pulled into the station, the compartment was filled by Calla, Harry, Ron, Hermione, a round faced boy called Neville who had lost a toad, and was rather concerned about it, and a blonde haired girl called Daphne who Calla and Hermione had seen coming back from getting changed, and who after a short conversation, had joined them for the remainder of the journey.

Stepping off of the train, Harry clutched Calla's hand tightly and squeezed it, grinning. "Are you nervous?" she whispered, green eyes wide.

"A little," Harry whispered back. "Actually, a lot."

"So am I," Calla replied. "We'll be fine though, won't we?" After a moment's hesitation, she asked the question that had been bothering her for a while now, "What if we're in different houses?"

"So?" Harry shrugged. "Even if we don't have any classes, we're still twins, and we're still always going to be friends, right?"

Calla nodded, and she found herself smiling. "Right. Come on, or we'll lose the others."

Hastening down a path, they heard Hagrid shouting for the first years, and bounded up to him. "Hi, Hagrid!" Harry said cheerfully.

"Harry!" Hagrid cried. "And Calla! Ye two excited for your first day at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah!" Calla giggled, though nerves swam in the pits of her stomach. "Are you taking us there?"

Hagrid nodded, smiling, before standing up straight. "Alrigh', we got everyone? Good. Let's get goin' then."

The first years and Hagrid made their way down the hill to a lake, made dark by the night sky. Boats sat by the edges, and the students made their ways towards them. "Four to a boat," Hagrid instructed, just as the sox from the carriage made to enter one together.

Harry and Calla exchanged glances of uncertainty. "We'll find another boat," Harry said. "If you four want to go together."

Daphne and Hermione's eyes both widened. "I'm not going with toad boy," Daphne hissed, loud enough for Neville to hear. "But my friends have all gotten in boats already."

"How about four go in one boat, two in another?" Hermione suggested, and she and Daphne both moved immediately closer to the twins, much to Ron's chagrin and Neville's confusion. Calla wanted to invite him to join them, but that could mean she'd have to be separated from Harry, and there was no way that was happening.

"I guess it's us four then," Harry said weakly, clearly just as uncomfortable as Calla felt. "Is that alright with you two?"

"Sure," Ron said, though he was still frowning. "We'll see you when we get there, anyway, won't we?"

As Ron and Neville headed off, the remaining four clambered into a boat, sitting down comfortably. "I've read all about this in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione was saying. "Supposedly there's a giant squid underneath the lake, though we might not see it."

"It's true," Daphne said casually. "My parents were both in Slytherin, and the dorm was below the lake, so they saw it now and then. They said it was nothing special, though."

The three regarded her curiously. "Do you think you'll be in Slytherin, too, then?" Hermione asked. "Only I read that a lot of the time, families end up in the same houses."

"I don't know," Daphne shrugged. "Probably. I think my parents would like it if I was in Slytherin, but they would be alright with Ravenclaw, too, I suppose. I can't imagine if I ended up in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, they'd hate that."

"But what house do you want to be in?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"I don't know," Daphne repeated. "Whatever my parents would be fine with. It'd be good if we were all in the same house though, wouldn't it, though you're Potters, so you probably won't be Slytherins, and Hermione's a muggleborn so I doubt she will be either. No offence."

"None taken," Hermione muttered.

"What do you guys think you'll be in?" Daphne asked, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention on her.

"I'd like to be a Gryffindor," Hermione said. "But everyone says I'm smart, so I suppose I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw, either."

"I don't mind, honestly," Calla said. "I'd like to be with Harry, though. Ravenclaw sounds good, but our parents were in Gryffindor, and so was Uncle Moony, so that'd be cool."

"I'll probably end up in Hufflepuff," Harry said gloomily. "I'm not brave or smart or any of that."

"You are so smart," Calla scoffed. "All the teachers said so. And you can become brave, too." Daphne and Hermione both nodded their agreement.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Harry said, though he still had a rather dejected tone.

The conversation silenced for a while before there were audible gasps and everyone looked up as Hogwarts finally came in to view.

"It's beautiful!" Calla cried. "Look, Harry!"

"There are seven stories in Hogwarts," Hermione told them, reciting as though she'd read it straight from a textbook. "And a dungeon, and there are one hundred and forty two staircases that connect them all. They move, too, apparently."

"Whoa," they all breathed, eyes still wide at the sight before them.

But they had barely any time to take in the Castle, as soon they were off the boats and being led up a staircase by Hagrid. Hagrid rapped twice on the door just as Ron and Neville crept back over to their friends.

The door swung open to reveal an elderly looking with, with a stern gaze and a pointed hat. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said in a Scots accent. "I'll take them from here."

She beckoned them in, and the new first years took their first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Calla was taking in the view of mahogany wood panels, and the high rising ceiling, just barely aware of the professor, who'd introduced herself as McGonagall, talking about the Hogwarts houses.

Calla was taken from her thoughts when McGonagall swept from the room and people started fidgeting, Neville fixing his cloak, which was currently fastened underneath his ear. "Do you know how we get sorted?" Harry was asking Ron, who shook his head.

"Fred - that's one of my brothers - was going on about how we had to wrestle a troll or something painful like that."

Calla and Daphne both shuddered, while Hermione started listing all the spells she could think of to fight trolls. "I'm sure it's nothing so bad," Calla said, assuring a rather pale looking Daphne.

"Yeah, I-"

"Greengrass!" a voice shouted, and the girls turned around to see Malfoy with his two brutes, as well as two girls. "Aren't you going to join us?"

"I, er…"  
"You're not spending time with that mudblood there, are you?" one of the girls cackled, and Calla saw Daphne and Hermione both shrink back on themselves. "Goodness, look at her hair."

"And is that Calla Potter?" the other girl sneered. "You'd think she'd look a little more presentable than that."

"Hey," Harry said, turning around. "Don't talk about my sister like that."

"Or what, Potter?" Malfoy taunted, stepping closer to Harry.

Great, Calla thought. They weren't even sorted yet and already they'd made enemies, and by the looks of it, Harry was about to get into a fight. "Leave it," Calla murmured. "Uncle Moony specifically told us not to get any detention on our first day."

Honestly, Harry looked like he might have completely disregarded Calla's words had it not been for Professor McGonagall opening the door, and beckoning the first years inside. "We are ready to receive you now," she said, a steely glint in her eyes.

Making their way down the aisle between tables, Calla and Harry clutched each other tightly, looking around uneasily. There were a few faces that Calla vaguely recognised from passing on the platform and the train, but apart from that she and her brother were both quite lost in the sea of people, and used one another as their anchors.

Hermione was talking about the enchanted ceiling to Daphne, who still looked torn between them and Malfoy's troop, while Ron and Neville shared their anxieties over what they'd actually have to do.

Just as Calla felt she might faint from nerves, a hat was placed on a stool in front of them, and everyone watched in amazement as it opened its brim and began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
"But don't judge on what you see,  
"I'll eat myself if you can find  
"A smarter hat than me.  
"You can keep your bowlers black,  
"Your top hats sleek and tall,  
"For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
"And I can cap them all.  
"There's nothing hidden in your head  
"The Sorting Hat can't see,  
"So try me on and I will tell you  
"Where you ought to be.  
"You might belong in Gryffindor,  
"Where dwell the brave at heart,  
"Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
"Set Gryffindors apart;  
"You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
"Where they are just and loyal,  
"Those patient Hufflepuffis are true  
"And unafraid of toil;  
"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
"If you've a ready mind,  
"Where those of wit and learning,  
"Will always find their kind;  
"Or perhaps in Slytherin  
"You'll make your real friends,  
"Those cunning folk use any means  
"To achieve their ends.  
"So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
"And don't get in a flap!  
"You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
"For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

As the song ended, the Great Hall burst into applause and Calla and Harry glanced at each other in a mix of amusement and confusion.

"I'll kill Fred," Ron was growling. "He said we'd have to wrestle a troll. But we just have to try on some old hat!"

Personally, Calla thought this was a bit more than just 'some old hat', given that it had just sang a rather clever song for them all, but gave Ronald the benefit of the doubt.

Professor McGonagall stepped up the the stool, and conjured a piece of parchment out of thin air, beginning to read off names.

"Abbott, Hannah," she called, and a short, ginger haired girl stepped up to try on the hat, which soon declared her as a Hufflepuff.

Calla and Harry both watched on with amusement as the sorting progressed. Hermione was sorted, apparently to Harry's surprise, into Gryffindor, just a minute before Daphne made it into Ravenclaw, receiving boos from Malfoy. Harry stepped on his foot and he yelped, glaring at the Potters, but Calla simply cheered for her friend, despite how nervous she seemed. Not long after, Neville was made a Gryffindor, to everyone's shock, and the hat barely touched Malfoy's head before he was announced as a Slytherin.

No surprise there, Calla thought to herself, then scolded herself. If Daphne's parents were in Slytherin, and Daphne was nice, then surely her parents couldn't be bad. Then again, the Dursleys were awful, but Calla liked to think she and Harry were at least half decent people.

She was pulled out of musings by Harry, who nudged her. The entire hall was staring at her expectantly, and it was with flaming cheeks that she realised her name had already been called. "Sorry," she murmured, green eyes wide as she hurried to the stool.

Harry flashed her a thumbs up just a second before she jammed the hat over her head.

"Ah," the hat said, startling Calla. "What have we here - a Potter! Yes, yes, I remember your parents, two fine, fine Gryffindors. But what about you?"

Calla kept silent, quite frankly terrified of speaking.

"Hmm, there's a lot of loyalty here. You would defend your brother no matter what, though there are few you would really trust. And there's a resourcefulness, and ambition about you. You could be great in Slytherin, you know. Powerful." For a moment, Calla imagines going back to Privet Drive and telling the Dursleys that she and Harry were ultra powerful and could turn them all into slugs. She giggled at the whimsy of the thought, and the hat chuckled. "No, perhaps not Hufflepuff, then. And you lack the cunning of a Slytherin."

Harry wouldn't want to be in Slytherin, Calla thought to herself, and the hat seemed to hear her.

"Not Slytherin, then? Well, moving on. I see bravery here, you would do anything for your brother, and there's a need for justice within you, that won't be easily satiated. Hmmm... and Ravenclaw? Yes, yes, ticking all those boxes, too. Creative mind, you like to draw, don't you, and write, too? You certainly have the mind of a Ravenclaw, and there's a uniqueness about your thoughts that would be well placed in Ravenclaw. But still..."

The hat sat quiet for many seconds, and a sense of dread crept up within Calla. What if this was the hat telling her that this was all a mistake, that she should get the Hogwarts Express right back to Privet Drive without her brother. Just as she felt she was about to throw up, probably on McGonagall's shoes knowing her luck, the hat spoke.

"Well?" It demanded. "What will it be: Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"

It's giving me a choice? Calla thought, surprised. On the one hand, Neville and Hermione were both in Gryffindor, as had been her parents and Uncle Moony, and Harry was likely to be Sorted there, too. But then she thought of Daphne, being booed as she went to Ravenclaw all alone, and felt a twinge of sympathy. She'd always have Harry, but Daphne didn't seem to have any Ravenclaw friends. She could always make some, though, and Calla so wanted to be with Harry... But he could make the choice, couldn't he? If he was given the choice between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, he could choose to be with her in Ravenclaw.

But what if he didn't? What if Calla was left all on her own with only Daphne, who might not even like her?

"Hurry up, Potter!" a faraway voice shouted, and she breathed in sharply.

There were so many what ifs, so many questions. This was not what Calla had been expecting - she was beginning to think that wrestling a troll would have been simpler.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"You don't know?" the hat cried, cackling. "This isn't the first time, believe me."

As thoughts and questions swam in her head, Calla blurted out, "Ravenclaw!" and the hat repeated it, just before being snatched off of her head for Harry to have.

She sprinted down the stairs, flashed Harry a quick, nervous smile, and flitted to the Ravenclaw table where Daphne had a seat empty. "You took a while," Daphne observed, and Calla nodded, attention fixed on Harry.

"I know."

Her brother seemed to be having just as hard a time as her with the hat, and it was several minutes before the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Something in Calla's stomach sank as her brother went to join Hermione and Neville, though not without smiling and mouthing to her, 'Meet me after'. She nodded, as Harry slipped into a seat and vanished from view, though people were still chanting and cheering for him.

Calla didn't pay much attention to the rest of the Sorting, cheering half heartedly when Ron was put in Gryffindor. She and Daphne made idle chatter for a while before they were introduced to the other Ravenclaw first year girls, Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin. Padma's twin, Parvati, had been sorted into Gryffindor much like Harry had, and Lisa had grown up in the Muggle world, which Daphne found fascinating.

Just as dessert was finishing up, someone tapped on Calla's shoulder and she turned around, frowning. "Harry!" she cried, turning a few heads. "Are you okay, everyone at the Gryffindor table's alright?"

"Everyone's great, Cal," Harry laughed, hugging his sister. "Percy - Ron's brother - says we have to go straight to the dorms after dinner, but I wanted to make sure you're okay." He glanced at the table. "Hi, Daphne."

"Hey, Harry," she said quietly, not quite able to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine, Harry," Calla said, even though she wished she could be with her brother, at least Daphne had a friend. "This is Padma and Lisa, by the way, Padma's sister's in Gryffindor too."

Harry greeted them with a short smile. "Are you going to write Uncle Moony tonight or tomorrow? Only Ron says it can take a while for post to get delivered at night."

"I'll write him tomorrow, then," Calla decided. "I'm quite tired now anyway, but he'll want to know what houses we're in."

"Sure thing," Harry said, grinning. "I think I have to go now, but I'll see you in the morning, hopefully we'll have some classes together. Love you!" he finished, hugging Calla once more.

"Love you, too, Harry," she said with a smile. "Now go, I don't want you getting lost."


	5. The First Day

September 2nd  
"Wake up, Calla!" a voice called. For a moment, Calla frowned in confusion as to where she was, but then it all clicked as she took in the blue and bronze decor.

"It's Hogwarts," she whispered, green eyes widening. "Daphne, it's Hogwarts."

"I know, right!" the blonde girl squealed, spinning around on the tips of her toes. "We've got our first classes today, too, I hope we have Charms - my mum says that was her favourite subject at school, even though my dad liked Ancient Runes best - or Potions, it sounds really interesting."

"I'm just excited to do Herbology," Padma said. "That was my parents' favourite subject."

As the other girls continued discussing their parents' stories of Hogwarts, Calla turned away with a tight knot in her stomach, pulling out her robes and walking through to the bathroom. She'd always had her godfather to tell her and Harry stories, of course, and they knew exactly when Lily and James had first met, and when they had first become friends, and when they'd first kissed, and when they'd gotten married, and all their favourite subjects and people, but it was different from actually hearing it from them. It wasn't something she generally missed. She'd always had Harry, and Uncle Moony, and that was a good enough family for her, even if she still had to put up with the Dursleys, and even if Uncle Moony didn't see them all that often; but she still felt something missing as she listened to the hum of her dormmates talking about their parents.

Remembering her pledge to write Uncle Moony in the morning, Calla quickly got washed and changed, letting Daphne into the bathroom before she walked over to her owl, Moony. Pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, she began to compose a letter.

Dear Uncle Moony, she wrote.  
I'm writing this to you from my house dormitory - Ravenclaw! I know it isn't Gryffindor, but all my dormmates are really nice, and hopefully Harry and I will still get to share a lot of classes. He's in Gryffindor, if he hasn't written you already - I'm going to remind him at breakfast, just in case.

The train ride was fun, we met lots of new people. There's Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger, who are all in Gryffindor with Harry, and a nice girl called Daphne Greengrass who's in Ravenclaw like me. And Hermione likes Roald Dahl, too! I think we're all going to be very good friends.

I have to go to breakfast now, and then I'll have classes, but I'll write you this evening too if you'd like to tell you how things are going.  
Lots of love,  
Calla

Rolling up the parchment and tying it to Moony's foot, Calla sent her owl away and turned back to her dormmates, who were now all fully clothed.  
"Should we go down now?" Padma asked, and Calla nodded, following the other girls down to the Great Hall. Personally, she had no idea how they'd managed to remember the route, but she was very thankful for it.  
Finding four seats at the Ravenclaw table, the Padma, Lisa, and Daphne slipped into an easy sort of chatter while Calla thrummed her fingers anxiously on the table, watching the doors for Harry's entrance. She didn't have to wait long, thankfully, as not long after Hermione had come in waving to Calla and Daphne, Harry and Ron walked in, too. Both boys waved and grinned at Calla, Ron mouthing something that she couldn't quite make out.

"Your timetable, Miss Potter," Professor Flitwick said cheerily. Calla had found out last night that he was Ravenclaw's head of house and taught Charms, and was apparently very nice.

"Thank you, Professor," she said timidly, smiling shyly.

"And might I say," he added quietly, smiling at her. "I'm sure you'll be just as great a wizard as your parents were."

He chirped back along the table to hand out timetables, and Calla smiled, nerves dissipating slightly at Flitwick's helpful words.

"Ugh," Daphne huffed. "We've got Double Potions with Hufflepuff first thing."

"Is that bad?" Calla asked innocently, and Lisa's eyes widened.

"So you do speak!" she snorted, mousy brown hair falling over her shoulder. "We thought you'd gone mute on us or something."

Not quite knowin what to say to that, Calla nodded shyly and turned back to Daphne. "Is Potions bad?"

"Well," Daphne said, thinking. "It's not that it's a bad subject so much as that the teacher isn't very nice. Professor Snape, he's head of Slytherin, and he's nice to them, but I doubt he'll like us very much. Still, at least we're not Gryffindors, right? He hates them."

"Oh," was all Calla could think to say to that. She scanned her timetables, pleased to find that she shared Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic with Gryffindor, as well as Herbology with the Slytherins and Défense Against the Dark Arts and Potions with Hufflepuff. Even if it wasn't all her classes, at least she had half of them with Harry.  
Finishing off a slice of toast, Calla stood up. "I'm going to see my brother," she whispered to Daphne. "D'you wanna come with me?"  
"Sure," Daphne said, joining Calla. "But we should probably make it quick - I don't think Professor Snape would like it if we were late."  
"Harry!" Calla called, making her way over to her slightly startled looking brother. "Morning."  
"Hey, Cal," he replied, grinning. "How are you? Did you get an alright night of sleep?"

"Yeah," she replied, hesitating for a moment before slipping into the space between her brother and Ron. "The Ravenclaw dorms are so nice, and there's bookshelves all over the common rooms, I hope there's some kind of Wizarding fiction, though I don't know if they really have that. And the whole thing's decorated blue, and the beds are so much comfier than back at Privet Drive! How's Gryffindor?"

She'd probably never said that much in one go in front of anyone but Harry before, and Calla bit her lip nervously as her gaze landed on the others. "Gryffindor's pretty much the same, except for colours. And I don't think we have as many bookshelves."

"We do, actually," Hermione put in from further down the table. "It's just that most people don't-"

"Anyway," Ron said, groaning at Hermione. "What have you guys got first?"

"Double Potions," Daphne groaned. "Also, do you mind moving over a little? It's really awkward just standing here."

"Oh," Ron said, blinking in surprise. "Sure, I guess."

He shifted slightly closer to Calla so there was room for Daphne between him and another Gryffindor boy - Dean, Calla thought his name was. "What's wrong with Potions?" Harry inquired innocently.

"Apparently the Professor isn't very nice," Calla told him with a shrug. "I think it sounds interesting, though: a bit like cooking or chemistry."

"Huh," Harry said. "We've got Herbology, then Transfiguration. You guys are in that class too, aren't you?"

Calla nodded. "Have you met McGonagall yet? She's the teacher for that class."

"She's Head Of Gryffindor," Ron said, and Calla was mildly disgusted to see that he had a full slice of toast in his mouth as he spoke. "Fred and George say she's nice, but pretty strict, so you don't want to get on her bad side."

"Hopefully she'll like us, then. I've met Flitwick too, and he seems sweet."

"Calla," Daphne said loudly. "We've gotta go, otherwise we'll be late for Potions."

"Oh, right," Calla said sheepishly. "I'll see you two in Transfiguration, then. Enjoy Herbology."

With a quick hug to Harry and a smile at Ron, Calla left the Great Hall with Daphne, heading to the dungeons for Potions.

Outside the classroom stood a few Hufflepuff boys who looked over, caught sight of Calla, blew their eyes wide, and turned back to one another, whispering. She withered under their scrutinising gazes, wishing that Harry was here to distract her. As it happened, Daphne didn't seem to know how to react, hopping nervously from one foot to the other.

"Daphne!" a girl called, wearing a Hufflepuff tie, and both girls turned around.

"Susan!" Daphne called back. "How are you?"

"Lovely, thanks," Susan said. "Have you met Hannah? She's in Hufflepuff, like me."

"Nice to meet you, Hannah," Daphne giggled.

"Hi," the other girl, Hannah, said. "And who are you?"

Calla turned towards them nervously, very aware of the fact that she hadn't properly fixed her fringe today and the edge of her scar was likely still visible. "I'm Calla," she said shyly. "Nice to meet you?"

Hannah stared, but Susan elbowed her in the side and smiled. "Nice to meet you, too, Calla? Are you two excited for Potions?"

"Ugh, no," Daphne groaned. "I bet Snape'll be a nightmare. I can't wait for Transfiguration, though. Did you know McGonagall's an animagus?"

The Hufflepuffs both gasped, while Calla frowned, not knowing what an animagus was but still being too shy to ask.

Their conversation went on like that for a few minutes before a hook nosed, greasy haired professor swept past them, opening the door. "Enter," he said with a sneering tone, and they went into the classroom, Calla making sure to stick close to Daphne.

They took seats together, and Calla stared up at the Professor nervously, not knowing what to expect from his lesson yet. "There will be no foolish wand waving in this class," he sneered, and there was a rustle as students put away their wands. "I don't expect many of you to appreciate the fine art of potion making, but nevertheless..." His gaze lingered on every student for a moment, and Daphne tensed next to Calla. "I suppose for the select few, we had best get on with this lesson."

He went through the class register, stopping when he got to Calla's name. "Calla Potter," he growled slowly, meeting her eyes. "It appears we have a celebrity in our midst, class." Instinctively, Calla reached out to grab Daphne's hand, wishing it was Harry. Perhaps Snape had been expecting a reaction, but no one so much as tittered. "Tell me, Potter, have you bothered to do any reading before coming here today, or will your very presence be enough to earn you Os in every class?"

"S-Sorry?" she asked, feeling a tad nauseous.

"Potter, tell me, where might I find a bezoar?"

Combing through her memories of reading up over the holidays, Calla whispered, "A goat's stomach, sir?"

"Speak up, girl, for goodness' sake!" Snape snapped, and she jumped.

"A-a goat's stomach?" Calla repeated, feeling guilty for almost breaking Daphne's fingers off with her tense grip. "Sir."

"I suppose you're not as dunderheaded as expected," Snape sneered. "Still, you could try to speak up once in a while? Or are you so arrogant that you expect everyone to take time working out what you're trying to say?"

Calla didn't know quite what to say to that, and instead sank into her seat, wishing more than anything that the ground would just swallow her up right then and there. Hey, it was a magic school, wasn't it? It could happen.

"Potter, speak up this time: what would I get if I added infusion of wormwood to a powdered root of asphodel?"

A potion, Calla wanted to spit out, but she held her tongue. "I don't know, sir," she said meekly. "I think it's some kind of poison."

"Some kind of poison," Snape scoffed. "Clearly, some obnoxious scar doesn't make up for a lack of intelligence. Detention, Potter, for your inability to study before starting school."

Now, Calla didn't exactly think this was fair, but she wasn't about to protest and land herself in even more trouble. Thankfully, one of the Hufflepuff boys protested for her.

"That's not fair!" he said in a pompous voice. "I couldn't think of an answer to either of those questions, at least she managed to remember one and a half!"

Snape sneered - was he really wasting time on this instead of the actual lesson? "Name, boy?" he sneered.

"Zacharias Smith," the boy replied.

"Well, Mr Smith," Snape sneered. "You can join Miss Potter in detention tonight at seven o'clock. Don't be late. Now, if you would all be so polite as to stop wasting my time?"

No one spoke, and he took this as a cue to continue the register before putting up a recipe on the board and instructing them to brew it.

Calla scooted closer to Daphne so they could get to brewing, and she counted out the necessary ingredients. Personally, she thought that cutting the beets was far from the best way to get the juice out of them, but just as she was about to point this out to Daphne, she caught Professor Snape's eye and her resolve withered.

"Not awful," Snape commented as he strode past Padma and Lisa's cauldron. He came to a stop next to Calla and Daphne, and sneered down his horribly crooked nose. "Could you really do nothing to make this even slightly resemble the end result?" he asked, and some stupid part of Calla's mind decided to be 'brave'.

"I thought about crushing the beets first," she said, instantly regretting speaking as Snape fixed her with a cold glare. "To - to get more juice out."

"Were you questioning the instruction?" Snape asked in a breathlessly cold voice.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It was just a thought, I didn't do it because I - I didn't want anything to go wrong."

"I see." With a wave of his wand, Snape cleared up the potion in Calla and Daphne's potion. "That's the end of the lesson. Miss Potter, detention tomorrow night and five points from Ravenclaw for questioning authority."

Calla's mouth opened in protest, but it was fruitless to protest. Instead, with hot tears burning at her eyes, she picked up her bag and swept from the room, heading towards Transfiguration with Daphne.

Tears were already beginning to spill down her cheeks when she crashed into someone coming the opposite direction, and almost cursed before she saw who it was. "Harry!" she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Call, are you alright?" her brother asked, green eyes wide with concern. "Why are you crying?" She noticed Ron eying Daphne suspiciously, but ignored it in favour of complaining to Harry.

"It's Snape. He's a total jerk, he gave me two detentions and took five points from Ravenclaw."

Ron's mouth fell open in equal parts awe and astonishment. "What did you do?" he asked breathlessly.

"Nothing!" she protested. "He asked me about bezoars and asphodel, and then when I only knew where to find a bezoar he gave me a detention for not studying enough. And then, when he said our potion was bad, I said I'd thought about crushing the beets first to get out the juice better and he gave me another dention and took off points for 'questioning authority'."

Harry's face filled with indignant rage, while Ron's eyes gained sympathy. "It's alright," Ron assured her. "Fred and George lost loads of points from Snape."

"They probably deserved it, though," Daphne huffed, earning herself a glare from Ron. "What? Even I know about the Weasley twins' pranks. And you weren't there: Calla was the only person Snape asked anything, he really did single her out."

"Write to Uncle Moony," Harry told her scowling. "He'll want to know."

"I don't want to bother him!"

"He'll still want to know."

True as that may have been, Calla still huffed. It probabaly was too trivial a schoolgirl matter to concern her godfather with, but she knew that if she didn't say anything, that Harry would write to Uncle Moony anyway.

"In you go, class," Professor McGonagall instructed. "You may choose your own seats."

Calla hurried in and sat next to Harry, leaving Ron and Daphne to squabble behind them. "I guess Ron doesn't like Daphne much?" Calla asked quietly, making Harry laugh.

"He has a thing about 'purebloods', apparently. He'll come around though; she seems really nice."

"She is," Calla replied, about to continue before Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

Calla had expected their teacher to speak to them, not to turn into a cat. She supposed that was probabaly what being an animagus meant, and Calla had to say, she was impressed. However, McGonagall then went on to say that what she'd just shown them was very complex magic and that they'd just be starting off by turning matchsticks into needles. Calla didn't think that was nearly as exciting as turning into a cat, but overall the lesson was still far, far better than Potions with Snape.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of magic and joking, with casual interjections of Harry and Ron laughing over Quirrel's turban, which smelt of so much garlic they might as well have been swimming in the stuff.

Half past six came around and Calla left the Ravenclaw common room to go to the dungeons, careful not to be late. Making her way downstairs, she bumped into two red haired boys, who she remembered to be the Weasley twins, carrying an old piece of parchment.

"Shit," the one with a slightly higher pitched voice said. "Didn't see you there. Calla, right?"

"Fred!" the other one - George - hissed. "Don't swear in front of the ickle firsty."

"I've heard worse," Calla muttered.

"So, where are you off to, Potter?" George asked, smiling as he not so slyly hid the parchment behind his back.

"Detention," she huffed, folding her arms crossly. "With Snape."

The twins let out low whistles. "Geez, what'd you do?" Fred asked.

"Set fire to a cauldron?"

"Give him shampoo?"

"Tell him he was a right greasy git?"

Calla shook her head. "He asked me what I'd get if I added wormwood and asphodel together, and I said poison. Then I said I thought that crushing beets might release more juice than just cutting them, but he didn't like that so I've got detention tomorrow night, too."

"Even for Snape, that's harsh," Fred said, frowning. "Want us to prank him for you? Ron and your brother were moaning about it all through dinner."

"Thanks, but I'm okay," Calla said, not wanting to get into any further trouble. Uncle Moony had specifically said no detentions, too. "I have to get to detention now anyway."

"We'll walk you," George offered. "Can't let a little firstie get lost in the dungeons now, can we?"

"Thanks," Calla said softly, the twins following her closely down to Snape's classroom.

"Have fun with the greaseball," Fred said with a wink, before he and George turned back down the corridor.

Calla knocked timidly on the classroom door, and Smape drawled, "Enter," from within. Zacharias was already standing sullenly beside a cauldron, and Calla made a beeline towards him before Snape cut her off. "You two will be workin on different sides of the classroom, cleaning out cauldrons. There will be no talking and no magic involved. And Miss Potter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Another five points off for being late to detention."

Oh, she was so going to write Uncle Moony about this. Part of her hoped that he'd be able to slap Professor Snape right in his stupid hooked nose.

Professor Snape glared as though he knew exactly what she'd been thinking, and Calla quickly looked away, turning her focus to her cauldrons. It was long work, and dreadfully dull, and so by the time that Snape dismisses them she was ready to collapse right then and there. Instead, she caught up with Zacharias outside, falling into step beside him.

"I - I didn't get to thank you," she said nervously. "For sticking up for me."

"Oh." Zacharias blinked once. "It's no problem. He was being completely unfair to you, and nothing I said to him wasn't true - I doubt anyone else in our class had any idea about those questions."

"Still," she said, "you didn't have to. It was decent of you."

"Anytime," Zacharias grinned. "Hufflepuff Common room's this way." He jerked his head in the opposite direction to Ravenclaw Tower."

"I'm the other way," Calla told him. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Have a nice night," Zacharias said, before giving her a mock salute and turning down the left hand corridor.

It took Calla a little while to actually find her way to the Ravenclaw Tower, given the inconvenience that moving staircases caused. Whichever Hogwarts headmaster had thought of that would get a right kicking from her.

"Evening, Calla," Daphne greeted her as the green eyed girl collapsed onto her bed. "How was Snape?"

"He was Snape," Calla said, muffled into her pillow. There was a letter lying on her bedside table, and Moony stood proudly on the windowsill. "Did you bring this?" she asked the owl, who hooted. "Good girl." Handing Moony an owl treat, she opened the letter. Predictably, it was from her godfather.

Dearest Calla, it read.

I do hope that you're enjoying your classes, and that the girls in your dormitory are nice. I hope you don't feel too down about not being in Gryffindor. Your mother was very nearly sorted into Ravenclaw; I'm sure she and your father would both be very proud of you. 

I doubt the Dursleys will have bothered to write you, but apparently Dudley's surgery went perfectly and he is now tail free. Also, tell that brother of yours to tie letters properly to his owl - it was nearly falling off when Hedwig got to my house. Write me back soon about how your classes are going, and if you need anything, please let me know.

Love,  
Uncle Moony

After a short time of consideration, Calla decided what to write back to Uncle Moony. It was late at night, but her owl seemed to be up to a long flight.

To Uncle Moony, she wrote, dipping her quill in the ink pot.

I'm enjoying most of my classes. We had Professor McGonagall for Transfiguration, and Harry and I share that class, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. I've got Herbology with Slytherin house tomorrow, and then Potions and History Of Magic with Hufflepuff.

You might have noticed I said I'm enjoying 'most' of my classes. I like Transfiguration and Defense a lot, and Professor McGonagall is nice as long as you don't get on her bad side, just as Daphne said. However, Potions isn't so great.

It's not the subject that bothers me, because I was quite excited for it - you know I enjoy chemistry and science at Muggle School. But I don't think Professor Snape likes me very much. He gave me two detentions today alone, and I've already lost ten points for Ravenclaw, and it's only the first day of term! I know you'll probably be disappointed in me for getting detention, but in my defense I think it was very unfair.

See, when Professor Snape got to my name in the register, he kept going on about me being a 'celebrity' and that making me arrogant, which is ridiculous because Harry and I didn't even know about who we were until a month ago! Then he asked me where to find a bezoar, which I answered correctly, but then he asked me what I'd get if I mixed an infusion of wormwood with powdered root of asphodel, and I said poison, and then he gave me detention for not studying even though I did! And he told me to be louder, and I'm trying, but I barely even know these people and you know I don't like talking in front of people I don't know.

Snape also gave detention to this Hufflepuff boy Zacharias Smith for sticking up for me, which was even more unfair! I have another detention tomorrow night too for 'questioning authority' because I thought that crushing beets to let out more juice in the potion might be a good idea, even though I didn't do it because I didn't want it to go wrong! Overall I'm quite annoyed, so I don't like Potions and neither does Harry, even though he doesn't have it until later on this week. 

Sorry for the rant, but I'm just back from a two hour detention with Snape and in a slight bad mood. Everything else about Hogwarts is wonderful, though, even if Professor Quirrel's turban does smell a bit garlicky. I'm sure Harry will also moan about Snape, possibly making the accusation that he's a secret vampire - though technically Ron Weasley thought of that first - but he'll be overdramatic, so I want you to know what actually happened.  
Also, Professor McGonagall is an animagus and she can turn into a cat - did you know that? I think it's really cool.

Lots of love,  
Calla Potter

"Can you take this to Uncle Moony for me?" she asked her owl, who hooted once as if to say, "Of course."

Calla ties the letter securely to Moony's leg before the owl swooped away into the darkening sky.

"Don't know about you," Daphne said, sitting down on her bed. "But I really am exhausted. Night, all."

"Night, Daphne," the girls chorused, sinking into their beds and dreams.


	6. Tea at Hagrid's

September 5th  
On Friday morning, an owl swooped down into Calla's soup and she shrieked before untying the letter that was around its leg.  
To Calla, it said.  
Was wondering if you and Harry would like to come to my hut for tea this afternoon after classes. Feel free to bring a friend with you.  
Hagrid  
Calla grinned and scrawled out a quick reply, smiling at the owl before sending it back on its way towards Hagrid.  
"Daphne?" she asked, turning to her light haired friend, who was halfway through a bowl of cereal.  
"Hm?" Daphne asked, eyes glued to the newspaper before her.  
"You know Hagrid, the groundskeeper? He's invited Harry and me for tea this afternoon after class, and he says we can bring a friend with us if we want."  
"Doesn't he live in that hut by the edge of the forest?" Daphne asked, wrinkling her nose.  
"Yeah," Calla said, frowning. "He's really nice."  
Daphne huffed. "Fine, then, if you like him. Might as well ask Granger too, you know she helped me out in Charms the other day and I don't think she has any friends yet."  
"Sure," Calla said. "We can ask her in Charms, then."  
"Have you seen this?" Padma asked Calla over the table. "You're in the Prophet."  
"The what?" Calla asked, glancing at Padma in confusion.  
"Newspaper," Lisa said. "There's a whole bloody article about you and your brother. Apparently you two coming here is the best thing since the end of the war."  
Not wanting to dwell for too long on the spite in Lisa's voice, Calla leaned over to make out the upside down headline: 'The Potters Return to the Wizarding World'. "Gotta give them points for originality," Daphne said with a snort.  
"What does it say?" Calla asked eagerly. While she'd initially not spoken much to the Ravenclaws in her year outside of Daphne, she was warming up to Padma after a week, even if Lisa was a bit of a pain.  
"Just the usual," Padma said. "A bit about your defeat of You-Know-Who, a bit about how you grew up with muggles - I still don't believe that, it's the stupidest thing I've ever heard - and talking about yours and Harry's sortings."  
"Oh," Calla said, slightly disappointed. The Wizarding World really couldnt think of anything more interesting to say about them. "That's cool, I guess."  
After breakfast, the Ravenclaw students headed to the greenhouses for their Herbology class with Slytherin. It was the only class they shared with the snake house, but it didn't make it any less enjoyable for Calla.  
"Right this way, right this way," Professor Sprout ordered, showing them inside. "Now, we're going to be potting some Bouncing Bulbs today. I've put you into groups of four." Professor Sprout read off groups from a list, and Calla and Daphne both groaned when they were told they were put with Draco Malfoy and Parkinson.  
"Potter," Malfoy sneered, and Calla smiled weakly.  
"Good morning," she whispered from behind black hair. Daphne had taught her a hair straightening charm from her mother the other day, and Calla had to admit she didn't mind it too much, though her curls were far shorter and she liked them better.  
"Let's get going then, shall we?" Daphne said, but Parkinson clearly wasn't letting her get away with that.  
"We're not working with you," she cackled. "Slytherin deserter."  
Daphne shrank back, as Calla stepped forward. "Don't be so rude to her, Parkinson," she said, and Parkinson snorted with derisive laughter.  
"What are you gonna do, Potter?" she laughed. "I didn't even know you could speak. You know you have to speak to perform spells, right?"  
Calla's eyes widened and she felt bile rise in her throat. "Shut up," she whispered, hiding behind her hair.  
"I hear you've already lost loads of points for your house, Potter," Malfoy said, sneering. "And I thought you and your brother were supposed to be good at magic."  
Calla didn't really know what to say to that, and instead turned her attention to her plantpot. "See, I told you, Draco," Parkinson laughed. "She's a total freak."  
All of a sudden the room began to grow rather hot, and Calla fussed with her collar. She was vaguely aware of Malfoy and Parkinson continuing to taunt her and Daphne feebly defending her as she leaned over her pot, clutching the table with grating nails. "Oi, Potter," Malfoy said. "You alright?"  
The sounds of laughter and chatter began to grow louder and mix together further, and Calla felt her pulse begin to quicken slightly. "No," she whispered, before turning around and promptly throwing up on Malfoy's shoes.  
Malfoy and Parkinson shrieked while Professor Sprout came over to see what all the fuss was about, moving quickly to make sure Calla was alright. "It's okay, dear," she said in a soothing voice. "I'll get you to Madam Pomfrey."  
Professor Sprout led Calla from the room and quickly found a Gryffindor prefect to take Calla up to the hospital wing while she attended to her class. Calla was only dimly aware of ginger hair - god, was that another one of Ron's brothers? - before she reached a bed in the hospital wing, lying down with a still racing pulse.  
In the end, she missed both Charms and History of Magic - Madam Pomfrey had ordered her to stay in the hospital wing until some colour came back to her cheeks - but was able to go with Daphne and Hermione down to Hagrid's hut, where she was told Harry and Ron would meet them.  
Apparently, Harry had wanted to come and see Calla immediately after Charms when he'd heard the news, but Madam Pomfrey had forbidden him from coming in until she thought Calla was ready, and he ended up ten minutes late to Snape's lesson, which the Potions Master hadn't taken kindly to at all, and he'd ended up taking a total of forty points from Harry and held him back at the end of the lesson.  
The three girls trooped down to Hagrid's hut, Calla still feeling a bit shaky after Herbology. She made a mental note to at least try and apologise to Malfoy for spewing on his shoes.  
Calla knocked on the door and stepped back. "Back, Fang, back!" Hagrid ordered from within, before opening the door to greet them. "Calla!" he greeted, enveloping the short girl in a hug. "And who's this you've brought with ye?"  
"This is Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger," Calla said shyly, gesturing to her friends in turn. On the way down, Daphne had whispered to Calla that she thought Hermione had been delighted by the offer of hanging out with them, and neither girl had the heart to admit even to theirselves that they'd only really invited her because they thought she didn't have any other friends, which wasn't strictly speaking untrue. "Daphne's in Ravenclaw like me, and Hermione's a Gryffindor."  
"Nice to meet you, Mr Hagrid," Hermione said with a grin, sticking out her hand for Hagrid to shake.  
"Just Hagrid, please," Hagrid chuckled, taking Hermione's small hand in one of his giant ones. "Come in, come in. I've got some rock cakes for you all. Is Harry gonna be down soon?"  
"Professor Snape held him back after Potions because he came in late," Hermione told Hagrid matter-of-factly. "He wanted to visit Calla in the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him."  
"Hospital Wing?" Hagrid asked, looking alarmed. "Gulpin' gargoyles, Calla, what've you been getting up to?"  
"She threw up on Draco Malfoy's shoes," Daphne told him with relish. "It would been wonderful were we all not so worried about her."  
Hagrid seemed to be hiding a smile. "Well, I just hope you're feeling better now, Calla."  
"I am, thanks," she said, just as there was a knock at the door and Hagrid went to let in Harry and Ron.  
"Calla!" Harry cried, rushing over to his sister. "Are you feeling better? What happened?"  
"I heard you spewed all over Malfoy's shoes!" Ron added, earning himself a glare from pretty much every student in the room.  
"Ronald, that's hardly the most important thing about this," Hermione said, and Ron groaned.  
"What's she here for?" he moaned, slumping into a chair.  
"I invited her," Calla told Ron pointedly. "She's my friend, and Daphne's. And to answer your questions, Harry, I'm feeling fine now, I just had a bit of a ... I don't know, I just felt off. Much better now, though, so you don't have to worry."  
Ron still didn't look too pleased with Hermione's presence, but he didn't mention it again as the conversation turned to their first week at Hogwarts, and a lot of complaining about Snape.  
"Did I show you the letter Uncle Moony sent back?" Calla asked Harry, frowning as she fished around in her pockets. "He said something about Snape."  
"That's Professor Snape," Hagrid mumbled without much heart, probably still affronted about his treatment of the Potters.  
"Ah, there it is," Calla said, pulling out the letter and holding it so everyone could read.  
Dear Calla,  
I'm glad you're enjoying most of your classes. McGonagall was my Transfiguration teacher, too, and believe me we were all just as in awe when she turned into a cat for our class. As for Professor Snape, I believe I may know why he doesn't particularly like you.  
You see, Snape was in the same year as us at Hogwarts. He was good friends with your mother before he, well, he went down a darker path. Because of this, he and your father never really got on and though it's all done and in the past now, I wouldn't put it past old Snivellus to hold a grudge like that against you and your brother. Try not to let it bother you, dear, but know that if he tries that again I will be having words with him and Dumbledore myself. Tell Harry that if he has any trouble with Snape, to let me know immediately.  
Love,  
Uncle Moony  
PS: Does your friend Hermione Granger happen to have parents in the dental profession? Only I could have sworn I saw a dentist's with the name Granger on it the other day.  
Snivellus," Ron repeated in awe. "That's brilliant."  
"My parents are dentists!" Hermione cried, clapping her hands together in delight. "Can you tell him that in your next letter?"  
Both Ron and Daphne stared at Hermione. "What's a dentist again?" they asked, and Hermione's jaw dropped in disgust.  
"What do you mean, what's a dentist?"  
"Never mind that," Harry said. "What do you think he meant by Snape going down a darker path?"  
"Dunno," Ron said with a shrug. "He's a Slytherin, so he was probably one of You-Know-Who's Death Eaters. All of them were."  
"Excuse me," Daphne sniffed, "but all of my family were in Slytherin, and not one of them was a Death Eater. We Greengrasses are more tolerant than them, and we certainly were not practitioners of dark magic."  
Ron looked down sheepishly, ruffling his ginger hair. "Sorry," he muttered. "But he probably was a Death Eater."  
"Now," Hagrid said, as though just remembering he could speak. "See here. Snape's no Death Eater, I don't want you five getting ideas about this."  
"But, Hagrid, what if"  
"No," Hagrid said firmly. "You ought to be getting back up to the castle now anyway, off with you. And take some rock cakes, too."  
Calla hid a grimace as she took two rock cakes, thanked Hagrid for tea, and followed her brother and friends outside. Just before she left, she gave Hagrid a quick hug and skipped away, catching up with Harry.  
September 6th  
The Ravenclaws had flying lessons with Hufflepuff on Saturday, and Calla was equal parts nervous and excited. On one hand, she couldn't wait to get on a broomstick like a 'traditional' witch from the movies and Halloween, but on the other hand she was almost certain she'd fall off and make an absolute fool of herself. Daphne had no such concerns, it seemed, having ridden on brooms multiple times in her life back home. The very idea of someone riding a broomstick would have probably made Aunt Petunia faint of shock.  
She and Daphne sat together on the lawn, waiting for the flying instructor to come outside. Daphne was braiding her hair - 'to keep it out my face when it's windy' - and offered to do Calla's, too, but she declined. So far she'd done an alright job of covering up that awful scar on her forehead, unlike Harry, and she was not about to reveal it now.  
"Potter!" called Zacharias Smith from across the lawn, walking towards her and Daphne with his two friends in tow. "How are you? I heard you puked on Malfoy's shoes!"  
"Does everybody know about that?" she groaned, burying her head in her hands.  
"Pretty much, yeah," Zacharias chuckled. "I thought it was pretty wicked."  
"Well, clearly she doesn't want to talk about it, Smith," Daphne huffed, and Calla shot her a grateful smile. "Look anyways, there's Madam Hooch."  
According to Daphne's parents and Uncle Moony, Madam Hooch had been teaching for a number of years, and though she could be strict, like McGonagall, her main priority was the safety of the students she taught. She had short, spiky grey hair and a kind face, and Calla decided she liked her instantly, even if she wasn't sold on the safeness of flying.  
Madam Hooch laid down about twenty broomsticks and told everyone to get beside one. Daphne and Calla joined the scramble, finding brooms that weren't quite as dogeared as the rest.  
"Now," Madam Hooch was saying. "Put your hand over your broom and shout 'Up!'!"  
As the word up chorused around the courtyard, Calla whispered it. The broom wriggled around on the grass, but didn't lift off the ground. "Up," she repeated more forcefully. Zacharias and Lisa had both managed to get their brooms in their hands already, and an ounce of frustration grew in Calla's chest. The broom was still on the ground, moving even less than it was earlier. She stomped her foot on the ground, as Daphne snickered.  
"Calm down, Calla," her fair haired friend laughed. "See, just relax, and believe that the broom will come to you."  
Doing as Daphne said, Calla rolled her shoulders back and cleared her mind of her worries over the broom and safety hazards. "Up," she commanded once again, and was delighted when finally, the broom flew up into her hand. "Yes!" she whispered, grinning, as Daphne cheered quietly.  
The rest of the lesson passed in a fairly boring manner, and at the end Calla traipsed back into the Ravenclaw common room with the rest of her year mates. While she'd gotten to know Daphne, Padma, and Lisa fairly well, she hadn't spoken much to the Ravenclaw boys in first year, or the other three girls in her dormitory, and resolved to talk to them at some point soon. She was almost a week into the year, after all.  
The majority of students had gone to the library, so Ravenclaw Tower was empty but for the First Years and two prefects playing chess in a corner. "Oh, don't let's start that Charms essay," one fair haired boy - Calla thought it may have been Terry Boot - huffed, falling into a chair. "Come on, I've barely gotten to know any of you. Sit down."  
Calla and Daphne exchanged mildly bewildered looks, but shrugged and sat down in a circle with the others. "What's the point in this, Terry?" Sue Li huffed, tossing silky black hair over her shoulder.  
"I want to get to know everyone," Terry replied with a shrug. "Seeing as we'll be seeing each other every day for seven years. Plus, we can get to know each other's strengths and weaknesses in school and work together so Ravenclaw gets more house points and better grades."  
"Actually," Mandy said, "it's more like five and a half years once we account for holidays."  
"Five and a half years, then," Terry sighed. "If you want to be pedantic about it. Look, I've got this book." He produced from his bag a rather beaten copy of 'The Hobbit'. He must have been muggleborn, then, Calla thought. Like Hermione was, like she was raised. "Whoever holds this book has to say their name, their favourite subject, the subject they find the most difficult, and three facts about them."  
Great, Calla thought. Having the attention focused on her was inevitable given the circumstances, but it was far from her heart's desire.  
"I'll go first," Terry said, clutching his book tight. "My name's Terry Boot, my favourite subject is Charms, and my worst is definitely History of Magic." Everyone chuckled at that - Binns was far from the most enigmatic Hogwarts professor. "My favourite food is pizza, I have three younger sisters, and a goldfish named Henry. You go next."  
He shoved 'The Hobbit' in the face of a tanned boy with dark hair, who looked faintly bewildered. "Er, I'm Anthony Goldstein," he said in a quiet voice. "My favourite subject is Herbology, but I'm not very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. My favourite colour is green, my mother is a botanist, and I have an older sister in Gryffindor." Looking how Calla felt - like he really did not want everyone's eyes focused on him - Anthony passed 'The Hobbit' to Mandy with a shy smile.  
"I'm Mandy Brocklehurst," Mandy said, watery blue eyes glinting as she smiled. "My favourite subject is Potions, even though I hate Snape, I find it quite interesting. My worst subject is definitely Transfiguration, but I'm sure there will be a lot of oppurtunity to improve over the year and I'll be in the top of our class in no time." Calla saw Daphne quirk up an amused eyebrow at this, but didn't comment. "I'm very good at singing, I adore Gilderoy Lockhart's books, and my whole family have been in Ravenclaw for generations." Mandy held onto the book for a little while longer, before she handed it over to an amused looking Sue.  
"Hi," she said, narrow brown eyes glimmering with excitement. "I'm Sue Li. I enjoy every subject, even though History of Magic is a bit dull sometimes. My worst subject is Potions, but it's still fun to try things out as long as Snape doesn't get too cross. My older cousin Angela is also in Ravenclaw, my favourite colour is blue, which is actually quite fitting for this house, and I want to be on the Quidditch Team next year."  
From a couple people away from Sue, a sandy haired boy giggled and both Sue and Mandy turned to glare at him, shutting him up.  
"I'm Isobel McDougal," Isobel said, takin the book from Sue. "But you guys can call me Izzy. My favourite subject is either Transfiguration or Herbology, and my worst subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts. My parents are both accountants in the Muggle world, I have a brother who wants to be an accountant, too, and my owl is called Bellona after a Roman goddess of war."  
The book was then passed to the sandy haired boy who'd laughed at Sue's Quidditch aspirations. "My name's Michael Corner," he told them. "My favourite subject is Charms, but I'm good at all of them. My dad is an Auror, and my mum plays for the Holyhead Harpies. I'm also very good at Quidditch, and want to be a Chaser, like my mum."  
Now it was Sue's turn to giggle, out of part spite and part amusement at Michael's arrogance. Daphne outright said to Calla that she thought Michael was a prat, and Calla would have laughed if she hadn't been too caught up in the way everyone who'd already spoken was now looking at her.  
The book was passed to Lisa, who said her favourite subject was Charms and that her worst was Potions, and then told them that she wanted to be a Magizoologist, that her favourite animal was a unicorn, and she had two older brothers, one in Hufflepuff and one in Gryffindor. Then Padma told them that she liked Herbology and was bad at Charms, as well as that her twin sister was in Gryffindor, her parents were from India, and that she enjoyed dancing.  
The book got passed into Daphne's hands, and the blonde girl shook her hair out. "I'm Daphne Greengrass," she told them. "History of Magic is my favourite subject, my worst subject is Charms. I have a younger sister called Astoria, most of my family have been in Slytherin, and my favourite sweet is Chocolate Frogs."  
Then it was Calla's turn. Quite frankly, she wished the ground would swallow her up right then and there. "I-I'm Calla Potter," she said nervously.  
"Yeah," snorted Michael Corner. "We know."  
"R-right," Calla said. "Well, um, I like Potions but not Snape, so I suppose Charms is my favourite subject. I'm not very good at flying, or at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I'm not the best at Herbology either. Really, Charms is about the only subject I am good at." She laughed weakly, but she was the only one. Everyone else simply looked at her expectantly. "Right um, three facts about me." Why was it that every interesting thing about her suddenly left her mind? The only interesting thing about her was that she and her brother had sort of defeated Voldemort when they were babies, but everybody knew that anyway. "Um, I like drawing," she said nervously. "And my godfather was a wizard, too, he was in Gryffindor. And I have a twin brother called Harry, who's also a Gryffindor."  
"Gee, you have a brother called Harry who's in Gryffindor?" Michael asked sarcastically. "I never would have guessed it."  
Lisa and Isobel both cracked grins at that, and Calla looked down with flaming red cheeks. "Yeah," she mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.  
"Do you remember what You-Know-Who looked like?" Michael blurted out, and Calla flinched slightly in surprise.  
"Um, no," she mumbled, hunching her shoulders.  
"Is it true you've got that S-shaped scar on your forehead?" Michael asked then, seemingly fascinated by the subject.  
"Yeah," Calla muttered, instinctively drawing hair further over it.  
"Can we see it?" Isobel asked, eyes lighting up in fascination.  
"Umm..." Calla shifted uncomfortably on the floor, fiddling nervously with her clothes. "I don't really like to"  
"Is it true you spewed on Malfoy's shoes in Herbology?" Sue asked, and Calla sighed in relief that the subject had been changed. She nodded, and everybody grinned. "Wicked!"  
"Not really," she murmured. "It was a bit gross, and I didn't even get to see the look on Malfoy's face."  
"It was priceless," Daphne said, giggling. "I wish I could have had one of those cameras to show you a picture of it."  
"That reminds me," Calla said. "I still have to go an apologise to him about it."  
"Why?" Terry laughed. "He's an arse anyway."  
"She still puked up on his shoes though," Padma pointed out. "I know if someone was sick on my shoes, I'd be a bit annoyed about it. If you want, I'll go with you to apologise to him."  
"Me too," Daphne said. "It's almost time for dinner anyway, we should probably get freshened up and then head off, what do you all say?"  
There were nods of confirmation as the students dispersed to the two different dorms, the girls to the left and the boys to the right.  
"I still don't think you need to apologise to that twat," Izzy was saying to Calla, giggling. "But if it helps you to sleep at night, so be it."  
The conversation turned to Quirrel's turban as the girls went down to the Great Hall, before Padma, Daphne, and Calla broke off and veered towards the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy's blonde head sat.  
"Er, Malfoy?" Calla asked timidly. Pansy Parkinson sneered at her from across the table, and Blaise Zabini watched on with faint amusement. Malfoy ignored her, so she tapped on his shoulder and he turned around, glaring.  
"What do you want, Potter?" he asked with a sneer.  
"I, er, I wanted to apologise... for being sick on your shoes yesterday. Believe me, it wasn't my intention."  
"You ruined his best shoes," Parkinson said pointedly, and Padma huffed.  
"I-I know, and I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't even mean to be sick anywhere near you, or anyone for that matter." She tried for a weak smile, and it looked like Malfoy may have been about to reciprocate before Parkinson opened her big gob.  
"What are you doing here, Greengrass?" the brunette sneered, and Daphne rolled her eyes.  
"I'm supporting my friend," she replied, hands on hips.  
"Are Mummy and Daddy still upset that you're not in Slytherin. From what I've heard, you've let down the Greengrass name."  
This was news to Calla, but Daphne's face went red and she clenched her fists. "Shut up, Parkinson," she growled. "You don't know anything about my family."  
"Don't I? We did grow up together, after all."  
Were it not for the simply thunderous expression on Daphne's face, Calla would have stepped in to defend her. As it were, Padma took them both by the arm and led them back to the Ravenclaw table. "Don't go getting into fights, Daphne," she hissed. "It's what Parkinson wants."  
"I suppose you're right," Daphne sighed, though her face was still red and her eyes watery with unused tears. "I just... I have to go get a book from the library. I'll see you two later, okay?"  
Before they had a chance to go after her, Daphne was gone, and Harry arrived with Ron and the Weasley twins in tow.  
"How did your flying lesson go, Cal?" he asked as he noticed her.  
"It was okay," she shrugged. "Took me a few tries before the broom responded to me, but it was fun once everything worked. Do you know when yours is yet?"  
"Next Friday," Ron supplied, frowning. "With Slytherin."  
"Yikes," Padma laughed. "They're a nasty bunch, aren't they?"  
"You're telling me," Ron laughed.  
"We've got to go to the Gryffindor table now," Harry said. "But I want to hear everything about flying after dinner, okay?"  
"You're on," Calla laughed, parting ways with her brother as she headed towards the Ravenclaw table, still debating trying to find Daphne.


	7. Halloween Night

October 31st  
Calla had tried to apologise to Malfoy, she really had. But no matter how many times she tried to speak to him and get forgiveness, she was either interrupted by a squealing Parkinson or a scowling Crabbe and Goyle, which was maddening by this point. As for Daphne, it seemed she really had gone to get a book from the library, as she never brought up the incident with Slytherins again.  
By the one it reached Halloween, Calla had managed to become friends with all the Ravenclaws in her year, even if she didn't open up much to them, and even if Michael Corner still annoyed her and Daphne to no end. Harry had managed to get himself into trouble numerous times, though thankfully Calla had managed to stop him from going to a nighttime duel that was a trap by Malfoy. She'd given up on apologising to the blond boy after that particular incident, and her and Daphne's near run in with a three headed dog caused by Parkinson and Malfoy pushing them onto a staircase which led to the third floor.  
Even though Professor Snape hadn't seemed to like her at first, he'd gradually began to accept and even respect her Potions skills, and as such she hadn't had quite as many unfair detentions or poor deductions. Unfortunately, Harry had taken even more of the burden into himself, and Calla had written numerous times to Uncle Moony complaining about it, though her godfather's social standing as a werewolf meant there was very little he could do about it.  
By the time Calla awoke on Halloween 1991, the teachers who had known her parents were already concerning themselves with her and Harry's welfare.  
"Surely we ought to make sure they are okay," Professor McGonagall pointed out in a Heads meeting. "It is, after all, ten years to the day, and now that they know the true nature of their parents' deaths..."  
"I must say, I think Miss Potter is likely to be even more upset if we thrust attention onto her on such a day," Professor Flitwick said. He'd been paying particular attention to his student, and during the run up to October 31st he hadn't noticed any major changes in her behaviour, besides from her and her friends' growing excitement about performing their first practical charm work. "Mr Potter, however, I do not know so well."  
"Is it possible," Snape drawled, as all eyes swivelled towards him, "that the Potters do not know the significance of this date? After all, they haven't shown any signs of being particularly upset recently, and I have seen no changes in Miss Potter's standard of Potions work."  
"Surely they must know," Professor Sprout said, furrowing her brow. "And even if they don't, better they hear from a teacher than some silly fourth year who thinks it's a good idea to ask about it."  
"I still stand that we should at least be a bit more sympathetic towards them today," McGonagall said, looking in particular at Severus. While she knew he had never gotten along with James Potter at school, he had not seemed to have gotten over their schoolboy rivalry when it came to the Potter boy's children. "If they feel upset, they should know that we are here for them to confide in, particularly Filius and I, as their heads of house."  
"I quite agree," Pomona said with an affirmative nod. "Filius?"  
"If you think so," he said slowly in his high pitched voice. "However, I'd advise against drawing any unnecessary attention to Miss Potter, I doubt that would help matters."  
"That's that, then," Minerva said, smiling. "Now, go on, we've all got classes to prepare for."  
"It's Halloween!" Isobel squealed, leaping out of bed. "Guys, guys, wake up! It's bloody Halloween!"  
"It might be Halloween," Padma groaned, "but it's also seven in the morning, and I'm too tired to be dealing with you."  
Isobel rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Patil," she scowled. "Come on, the quicker we get to class, the quicker we get to the Halloween feast!"  
This certainly woke Calla up. Uncle Moony had always said that Halloween feasts at school were amazing, and she couldn't wait to experience one of her own with Harry. "Can't you tell your owl to come through the Great Hall?" Lisa whined, gesturing to Moony, who was perched above her bed. "It's abnormal."  
Personally, Calla thought her owl was one of the least abnormal things about Hogwarts, but she just held back a sigh and took Moony on her arm, receiving the letter. It was from her godfather, as expected.  
Dear Calla,  
I hope this letter finds you well. As you know, that time is coming up soon, so I may not be able to contact you for a few days. Please don't be disheartened by any lack of communication.  
I'm glad to hear that you're making friends - Hermione and Daphne both sound lovely, and I'm sure you'll be able to become friends with the other Ravenclaws, even if some of them have been irritating so far. Believe me, I know the feeling: your father and a couple of our other friends irritated me beyond belief the first few months at Hogwarts, but eventually we became as close as brothers.  
As you know, it's Halloween. Because I know what McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout are like, they will more than likely be especially nice to you today. It's awful to have to tell you this via letter, and I'm kicking myself for not telling you and Harry face to face about it earlier, but today... Well, there's no easy way to say this, but Halloween ten years ago was the day that your parents died.  
Calla felt a lump rising in her throat, but continued reading with a bitten lip.  
I'm sure this has come as a bit of a shock, and I in no way would blame you if you're upset. I haven't been able to write to Harry yet, and he has kept up nowhere near as constant a correspondence as you have - you couldn't ask him about that, could you, I want to make sure he's okay myself - but when you see him could you talk this over with here? It would probably benefit you both.  
I'm glad you're enjoying flying eventually, and I will try to come to the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match next month seeing as Harry is the Seeker, but if I can't make it ensure that you cheer twice as loud in my name.  
Love,  
Uncle Moony  
Blinking back tears, Calla put the letter aside. The other girls on the dorm eyed her nervously, as if anticipating a reaction, and Calla realised with a start that they all knew. Those of them who had grown up in the Wizarding World - which was all except Sue and Lisa - already knew the date her parents died. Heck, they probably knew more about that night than she or Harry could even remember.  
Feeling tears begin to spill over her cheeks, Calla snatched up her robes and hunched over her shoulders, shuffling her way into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. She leant against the wall for a moment, before collecting herself and pulling on her robes. Tears still spilled on her cheeks and she wiped them away, noticing a slight red puffiness. Thankfully, she'd put all of her books in her bag the night before and so she simply grabbed the bag and Uncle Moony's letter before leaving the dorm on her own and making her way to the Great Hall.  
On her way down she ran into Harry and Ron, who were being followed by Hermione, talking very loudly about their Charms work. "Cal!" Harry called, grinning. "Happy Halloween!" So, he clearly didn't know about the significance of today yet.  
"Yeah," Calla mumbled, and Harry frowned. He gestured for Ron to go on, and after a moment of hesitation he did. Hermione threw Calla a concerned look, but she waved her off and with a masterfully stern 'we'll talk about this later' look, the frizzy haired Gryffindor went on her way.  
"What's wrong, Cal?" he asked, the two of them in a small alcove. "Has something happened?"  
"Oh, Harry," she said softly, leaning her head on her brother's shoulder. They hadn't been alone and close like this in a while - there was always either Ron or Daphne or Hermione with them - and Calla found for a moment that she did miss it. "No one's told you, have they?"  
"Told me what?" Harry asked, perplexed.  
"I - I got a letter from Uncle Moony. Basically... the night our parents died... it was Halloween."  
"Oh." Harry's concerned face fell into his own expression of sadness, and he looked down at his shoes. "I didn't... I didn't know..."  
"I just found out this morning," Calla said, as Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her. "Everyone else knew. All the girls in my dorm, Padma and Daphne and Isobel and Mandy... I could tell, they were watching me, waiting for me to say something, waiting for me to react..."  
Harry didn't say anything, but his green eyes were wide with sorrow. "Oh, Calla," he whispered, and they wrapped arms around one another in a tight embrace. "Do you... do you ever wonder what they would have been like? If they hadn't, you know..."  
"They would have been amazing," Calla sobbed. "That's what Uncle Moony always says. The best parents in the world. Dad would be so proud of you, youngest Quidditch player in a century. And Uncle Moony says that Mum's best subject was Potions, too, and that we've both got her exact eyes." She swallowed down a lump in her throat.  
"They'd love you," Harry whispered. "You're one of the smartest in our year, and you're an amazing artist and Potion maker."  
"They'd love is both," Calla said affirmatively, drying her eyes. "And they'd be amazing parents. Wonderful."  
"They would have taken us to Diagon Alley and Dad would have taken us to the Quidditch shop and spent ages there!"  
"And Mum would have taken forever looking over the potions and ingredients in the Apothecary, and choosing books out for us in Flourish and Blotts."  
"And ice cream!" Harry cracked a smile. "I think Dad would have liked chocolate chip ice cream."  
"Nuh uh," Calla said, giggling despite her tears. "He would see sense, strawberry's always the way to go."  
The pair suddenly laughed, and Harry held his sister close. "We'll be alright, won't we?" he asked, and Calla thought she heard an ounce of fear in his voice. "We're always going to be this close, right?"  
"Of course we are, Harry," Calla laughed, ruffling his hair. "Come on, we've got Charms first and Daphne and I want to get the levitation charm before anyone else."  
Arms around one another's shoulders, the twins made their way into the Great Hall.  
"What took you so long, Potter?" Lisa asked from across the Ravenclaw table, and Calla his her face, praying that she could conceal her anger at the girl. Why she sought to provoke Calla so was beyond her, but she still did it, and none of the others usually tried to stop it, apart from maybe Daphne.  
"Was with my brother," Calla mumbled, hiding a glare in the Daily Prophet. Daphne had managed to convince her to subscribe last month, and she had to say, some of it was vaguely interesting. For instance, some band called the Weird Sisters had just released a new album, and it had been rated as eight broomsticks out of seven by the Prophet's music editor. Calla didn't know what was odder: the band's name, the fact that the Wizarding World rated music out of seven broomsticks, or that an eight broomstick rating was in a serious newspaper.  
"Oh, of course," Lisa said, faking sympathy. "I heard all about today from Padma. It must truly be awful for you two."  
Not wanting to give Lisa the satisfaction of seeing her red-rimmed eyes, Calla buried her head further in the newspaper's pages.  
"You okay?" Daphne whispered, laying a cool hand on Calla's wrist.  
"I - I think so," Calla said, lip wobbling slightly. "I will be."  
"Good," Daphne said, smiling faintly. "Because I seriously need my Charms buddy for today."  
Calla giggled at that, and by the time she arrived at the Charms class with Daphne, she was in a much better mood that she had been before.  
"Morning!" Hermione greeted them both cheerfully, though even she was eying Calla warily, as though she were a ticking time bomb about to explode. As if she would have the guts to stand up and say what she thought of something in front of everyone.  
"Morning, Hermione," Calla said with a smile, and Daphne nodded at the girl. Despite Daphne's family's less extreme pure blood views from the rest of their society, there was still a clear divide between her and Hermione. One which, no matter how much Hermione helped Daphne in Charms, still extended to classwork. The two slightly unconventional Ravenclaws were as of yet, still Hermione's only real friends at Hogwarts, but the three of them were, for the most part, content with that.  
"Are you excited for practical work?" Daphne asked, eyes glinting. She knew that would send Hermione off on an amusing ramble about the proper wand techniques she'd looked up, which would unknowingly give Daphne and Calla an advantage without having to do extra reading.  
"Of course, I don't expect to be able to get it right the first time," Hermione was saying, "but I'm sure we'll all manage it eventually, even if it does take a bit of work first. My parents always said practice makes perfect: do they have that saying in the Wizarding World, too?"  
Daphne shrugged. "Kind of. It's more of a 'you will practice until you are perfect or Merlin save me!' but it means the same thing."  
Hermione frowned for a moment, before she caught sight of something. "Oh, Neville!" she called, waving to the round faced Gryffindor. "I've still got that Herbology book that you left in the common room last night! You know, you're lucky I found it, some people may have just taken it without a word."  
"Oh," Neville mumbled, taking the book shyly from Hermione's hands. "Thanks, Hermione."  
"My pleasure," she beamed. "Are you excited for today?"  
And she was off again: Halloween and Charms and magic, magic, magic! Honestly, Calla was just as excited as Hermione was, but she and Daphne just privately grinned at their friend.  
"Hey, Cal," Harry said, and Calla startled for a moment. "Feeling better?"  
Calla nodded, smiling at her brother and Ron. "You?"  
"Yeah," Harry replied, while Ron whispered something indecipherable to Daphne, which she appeared to find amusing. "Do you mind if we partner up today? Only I'll end up with Seamus otherwise, and he has a tendency to set things on fire."  
"Sorry, Harry," Calla laughed. "I've already made a pact with Daphne. But I promise, if Seamus sets you on fire, I'll do my best to put it out."  
"That's not even funny," Harry told her, though the corners of his mouth twitched up anyway.  
"Good morning, class!" Professor Flitwick chirped, gesturing for them to enter the classroom and take their seats.  
After a quick introduction, they got to work levitating feathers. Much to her chagrin, Calla couldn't get it to move until at least five tries, but the floating feather was still the first in the class, and Flitwick beamed at her with delight.  
"And look at that!" he exclaimed. "Miss Potter's dôme it, absolutely splendid. Just shows that patience and perseverance can help to develop skill in just a short space of time! Ten points to Ravenclaw for your great effort and skill, Miss Potter!"  
Calla thought he was being a tad generous with his compliments, but either way she smiled softly at the praise, and Daphne grinned at her. The Greengrass girl had taken a break from her own feather to watch Calla's efforts, but now her attention had been diverted to Seamus who, as predicted, had set his feather on fire. Harry turned to glare at Calla, mouthing the words, "You'd have been a much better partner." She grinned back, sticking out her tongue.  
"Stop, stop, stop!" Hermione shrieked at Ron, putting a hand out in front of his pale freckled face. "You're going to take someone's eye out, Ronald! And besides, you're saying it wrong! It's wingardium levi-oh-sa, not wingardium levio-sar!"  
"You do it, then," Ron grumbled. "If you're so bloody clever."  
"Fine," Hermione said primly, before smiling and levitating her feather with ease.  
"And Miss Granger's done it, too! Five points to Gryffindor for you, Miss Granger!"  
Hermione beamed and Calla shot her a thumbs up, while Ron slumped over his Charms textbook, sulking.  
Once the lesson was over, Calla and Hermione were the only ones who'd managed to levitate their feathers, though Calla assures Daphne and Harry that she'd seen both their feathers twitch.  
"I swear," Ron said, stomping up to the trio. "That girl does my head in." He put on a quite simply awful imitation of Hermione's voice. "'It's wingardium levi-oh-sa, not wingardium levio-sar!' She's a nightmare, honestly! It's a wonder she's got any friends!"  
"Ron!" Calla huffed indignantly, but the damage was done. Hermione had clearly heard, and she scurried out of the classroom, disappearing from view. "Look what you've done!"  
"It's true," Ron muttered, crossing his arms. "Besides, it's alright for you, miss ten-points-to-Ravenclaw. How'd you do that anyway?"  
Calla shrugged. "Just kept trying, I suppose."  
Ron sighed, but before he could say anything, Professor Flitwick spoke. "Mr and Miss Potter?" he asked. "Could I have a quick word?"  
"You two go on," Harry said to Ron and Daphne. "We'll catch you up in Transfiguration."  
The twins headed towards Flitwick's desk, and Calla felt a twist of nerves in her stomach. From the concern in his eyes and the sympathetic smile, it was clear he was going to inquire about their welfare given the situation.  
"What is it you wanted to talk to us about, sir?" Harry asked, feigning curiosity, though Calla knew he already had a faint idea.  
"I was, er, just wanting to make sure that you two were alright today," Flitwick squeaked. "I hope you don't mind, but I like to keep an eye on my students."  
"Er, thanks, Professor?" Harry said, biting back a giggle.  
"And, Miss Potter," Flitwick added, turning away form Harry with a slightly pink face. "Congratulations on your work today. You're quite an exemplary Charms student, much like your mother."  
Something leapt in Calla's chest. Her mother was good at Charms, too? "Thanks, Professor," she said, beaming.  
There was a moment of awkward silence before Flitwick dismisses them. "Just tell Professor McGonagall you were with me, I'm sure she'll be fine about it, go on."  
Walking towards Transfiguration, Calla thought to bring up Hermione. "Do you think Ron really meant what he said earlier?" she asked, biting her lip.  
"Probabaly," Harry said. Calla fixed him with a glare and he sighed. "I like her, Calla, I do, I'm not saying I don't. But Ron does find her a nightmare, and you have to admit, she can be a slight bit overbearing."  
"She's just excitable," Calla argued. "Besides, Ron really upset her. I'm going to try and find her after class. I don't want her to think I don't care."  
"I'll come with you, if you'd like," Harry offered, and Calla knew that was his form of apology.  
"Thanks," Calla said. "How are you doing with your levitation, anyway? I really only saw Seamus' calamity. If you'd like, we could work on it together? It's quite fun, and I think with a bit of practice you could control how it moves, and that would be really cool! I meant to ask Hermione about that, actually - you know she's read about every book available on magic!"  
"I'm not even surprised," Harry laughed. "And, sure. I didn't exactly do brilliant, so if you want to work on it-"  
"Yes!" Calla cheered, grinning. "We'll start tomorrow!"  
Entering the Transfiguration, Calla and Harry excused themselves and took seats, vanquishing their thoughts of Hermione's plight.  
"Come on, Potter!" Lisa called across the classroom, smirking. Once again, Quirrell was an absolute failure of a teacher, and neither the Slytherins nor Ravenclaws were learning anything in class. "You're good at this whole defense stuff, why don't you show off for us?"  
Calla looked away, cheeks flaming. Quirrell was stuttering, trying to regain some fragment of order over his class, but between Lisa's taunts and Parkinson's jeers, there wasn't much he could do. Anthony Goldstein and Padma were sending paper aeroplanes flying towards one another, under a mockery of the levitation charm. Daphne scowled at Lisa, and whispered, "Don't listen to her. She's not the best Charms student in our year."  
"Neither am I," Calla whispered back, cheeks pink. "It was only one spell, and it was Hermione's first try that she got it on anyway."  
"You still got it first, though," Daphne pointed out. "With patience and perseverance."  
"Oi, Calla?" Padma said, leaning over the back of her chair. "You couldn't help me out with that charm, could you? I'm rubbish at it."  
"Of course," Calla said, smiling. "What bit are you struggling with?"  
While they worked through the motions and incantations of the Levitation Charm, Calla could block out the rest of the classroom and focus on her thrown together attempt at teaching, which was still better than what Guirrell was doing. Her 'students' now included Daphne, Padma, Terry, and Anthony, and with the exception of Terry, they were all managing to get their feathers to levitate.  
As it was a double, it began to drag on a bit and once they'd all managed to levitate their feathers they turned to other conversations. When it finally turned to the subject of the Halloween feast, and Terry and Anthony started discussing trick or treating and dress up in the Muggle world, Calla tunes out. The Dursleys had never allowed her and Harry to go trick or treating or dressing up, and Uncle Moony never seemed available on Halloween night. They'd never understood why, but now Calla supposed it made a bit of sense.  
"Potter!" snapped a voice, which broke Calla out of her thoughts. Pansy Parkinson stood above her, sneering. "Is it true you were the first to levitate your feather in Charms?"  
Confused, Calla nodded slowly. "Yeah."  
"That's really cool." Her voice was far from sincere, and Calla wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "Do you think your parents would have been proud?" And there it was; Parkinson's natural charm. "Oh, that's right, you don't know them."  
"Leave it, Parkinson," Padma hissed, glaring at the black haired girl. "Go back to your snake friends."  
"Oh, I don't think I will," Parkinson laughed. "I'm just having a nice chat with my friend Calla, here. Isn't that right, Calla?"  
Calla slipped lower into her chair, gripping her wand tightly. "Leave me alone," she said, trying to sound brave though it came out as more of a whimper.  
"What's that, Potter? You know, I can't imagine how it must feel to know that you'll never get to meet your parents. It must be awful, isn't it?"  
Calla felt her head pound, and bile rose in her throat. The classroom had gone quiet and everyone was looking at her, even Quirrell. For a sharp moment, the scar on her forehead burned and she inhaled sharply, slapping a hand to it. Trying to calm her breathing, Calla closed her eyes, leaning back.  
"What's wrong, Potter?" Parkinson asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Is your scar hurting?"  
"Shut up," Calla muttered, standing up and grabbing her bag. Everyone was staring now, and her vision swam with tears of anger and grief. "Shut up!"  
With an uncoiling of anger in her chest, Calla swept from the room and slammed the door behind her. For a brief moment she wondered if she'd shocked Quirrel so much that he'd faint or something like that, before carrying down the corridor towards the bathrooms, hurling herself into a stall with a sob.  
"Hello?" a voice called, and she jumped.  
"H-Hermione?" she asked incredulously, tears staining her cheeks and matteing her currently straightened hair. "What are you doing here?"  
"Calla!" Hermione's voice sounded faintly shocked. "Was that you who just slammed that door?"  
"Yeah," Calla admitted, looking down with a sheepish face. "I had a bit of an encounter with Parkinson in Defense."  
"Do you - do you want to talk about it?"  
"Not really. Do you want to talk about Ron?"  
"Not really." There was a moment's silence, and then: "Actually, yes, I do." A stall door swung open and Calla saw Hermione's shoes underneath it. Taking this as a cue to come out, Calla took a deep breath and opened the door, green eyes meeting Hermione's.  
"Hermione?"  
"I just... I thought he was nice. He was my friend - you're all my friends, you know? I liked Ron, and Harry, and you, and Daphne, and I was proud that I did well because everyone says muggleborn aren't good but I managed to do it, and so did you, didnt we? And then Ronald" she hiccoughed, wiping her eyes. "He just goes and ruins everything!"  
"Boys are like that sometimes," Calla said. "And girls, to be fair. Maybe it's just human nature or something rubbish like that."  
"Yeah." Hermione looked down, lost in thought. "What did Parkinson say to you to make you upset, Calla?"  
"Oh." Calla's face went beet red, and she looked down. She'd been a bit more forceful than intended, but she couldn't help it - this anger at Parkinson had just exploded within her and she couldn't stop herself. "I probabaly overrreacted. She said something about my parents, and I got upset, because, well, you probabaly know already..."  
"Yeah," Hermione said, reaching out a hand to Calla. "I read it in a book."  
"I figured," Calla replied hollowly. "Well, I just got really angry at Parkinson and I grabbed my bag and stormed out and slammed a door. It was probably stupid, and I should probably go and apologise to Professor Quirrel, I might"  
"You can't right now!" Hermione said. "It's jut, well, it's the Halloween feast, isn't it, and well..."  
She didn't elaborate, but Calla supposed it had something to do with Hermione not wanting to face anyone right now. She couldn't blame her - were it not for her guilt and the fact that Hermione was already there, she wouldn't have wanted to speak to anyone either right now.  
"I'll find him tomorrow, then," Calla decided. "Hopefully I don't get into trouble."  
"If anything, Parkinson should be the one getting into trouble," Hermione said. "You had a perfectly normal reaction, I think."  
"Yeah." Calla noticed with a faint smile that neither of them was crying anymore. "Do you want to just sit here a little while longer?"  
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I don't really want to face everyone at the feast. Especially not Ron, or Harry." She winced. "Sorry, I know he's your brother, but I don't know if he agrees with Ron."  
"He doesn't," Calla assured her quickly. "I made sure he didn't."  
Hermione grinned. "Thanks, Calla."  
"Harry Potter!" Daphne shouted, whirling into the Great Hall. A few heads turned to her before looking away at the sight of her steely glare, as she made her way towards the Gryffindor table.  
"This can't be good," Ron said nervously.  
"Daphne!" Harry greeted. "How are you?" He frowned. "Where's Calla?"  
"Good bloody question!" Daphne exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "I thought she'd have come to find you!"  
"Come to find me?" Harry asked. "How come?"  
"Parkinson," said another voice, and it wa shuts them that Harry noticed Padma Patil was with Daphne. "She was going on about your parents, and Calla stormed out upset. We figured you'd know where she was."  
Harry blinked once in confusion, then turned his glare to the Slytherin table where Pansy Parkinson sat, looking altogether far too pleased with herself. "No, I don't," he said. "But if Parkinson says one single word to my sister, I'll"  
Sadly, they never got to find out what Harry would do if Parkinson insulted Calla, as Professor Quirrel chose that exact moment to burst into the Great Hall. "Troll!" he shrieked, arms flailing in the air. "Troll, in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know."  
He promptly fainted, and the hall burst into chaos. "Order!" Dumbledore bellowed. Everyone turned to stare at him, but the four students linked hands, already knowin where they were to go. "Prefects will lead your house to their common rooms. Teachers, with me, to the dungeons."  
"Follow me, follow me!" Percy Weasley called, and Ron made to follow him before Harry and Daphne tugged him back.  
"Calla and Hermione don't know about the troll," Harry hissed. "And I need to make sure my sister's okay."  
"I'm not doing anything for Hermione Granger," Ron grumbled, before Daphne glared.  
"You owe it to her after what you said earlier," she snapped. "Even if you have to wrestle the bloody troll yourself."  
Ron parked at the thought, but nevertheless followed Padma, Daphne, and Harry out the hall.  
"Parvati said that Hermione had been in the toilets all day, crying," Padma informed them helpfully. "With any luck, she and Calla will both be there still."  
The foursome made their way through the corridors, slinking away from Percy and towards the second floor bathrooms where Hermione was said to be.  
Calla smelled the troll before she saw it. A pungent odour wafted up her nostrils and both she and Hermione gagged on it. "What is that?" Hermione hissed, wrinkling her nose. "Has the sewage pipe broken or something?"  
"Smells like a troll to me," Calla said. "Knowing this school, it probably is a troll."  
Hermione's face went white, and both girls grabbed their wands tight. "Should we hide?" Hermione whispered, and Calla nodded.  
"In a cubicle, make sure your feet aren't poking out."  
They jostled each other slightly and balanced on a closed toilet seat, holding their bags and remaining very, very still. For a moment, thumping footsteps receded and they breath in relief, but the next thing they knew the troll was standing in the bathroom.  
Hermione gasped and the troll whirled around. Calla clutched her friend's arm, terror gripping her heart like a metal vice. This was just typical of her day, wasn't it?  
Finding out exactly when her parents died, her friend upset by her other friend, Parkinson and Lisa being overall annoyances, and to top it all off, a ten foot mountain troll less than five yards away from her and quite possibly going to kill her and Hermione.  
Both girls held their breath, hoping and praying to a god they didn't believe in that the troll would go away. It didn't.  
The troll seemed to catch sight of Calla and Hermione and raised its club to swing, before four other figures burst into the bathroom. "Calla!" Harry shouted, and Calla could have cried of relief.  
The troll swung around to face Harry and Calla shrieked, lunging forward to hit the troll's calf with her bag.  
About a million things happened at once.  
Hermione had tried to grab the troll by the ankle with Calla, but they'd both ended up flung under the sinks with Harry. Padma and Daphne, bless their souls, were shouting insults at the troll which Calla could barely even understand, while Ron tried levitating he club into the air. Calla grabbed Harry's hand and emerged from under the sink, prodding the troll in the foot and making it wince briefly with pain. "I'll get it!" Harry said, a second before the troll grabbed him by the waist and picked him up in one hand, Calla in the other.  
Down below, Daphne was helping Hermione stand up, while Padma and Ron tried to do some form of magic that Calla couldn't make out. The troll squeezed her tighter and she screamed, almost blacking out in fear. Harry was battling valiantly, but she wanted nothing more than to run away at that precise moment. He probably would have, were it not for the fact that she was still suspended in mid air. "Let us go!" Harry shouted, and Calla spied the club lying on the floor.  
"Padma!" she shouted. "Club!"  
She seemed to get the message. Slowly, while Calla kept shrieking and feeling sick, and Harry attempted to negotiate with a troll for whatever mad, mad reason, the club rose in the air. Just as the troll noticed that his club was no longer at his feet - trolls were famously slow to catch on, after all - he was hit over the head with it and crumpled to the ground, taking Harry and Calla with him.  
"Ugh," Harry groaned, having landed on his side. "That hurt."  
"Just a bit," Calla agreed, huffing onto her feet. "Trolls are gross."  
"Can we agree," Daphne said in a wobbly voice, "to never do that again? Ever?"  
"I think that can be arranged," Padma said faintly.  
"What on earth is going on here?" exclaimed a stern voice, and they all hurled around nervously. Professor McGonagall had just arrived at the scene, followed by Flitwick, Quirrel, and Snape, who was limping curiously.  
"Ah," Harry said, smiling awkwardly. "You see"  
"It was my fault," Hermione said, at the same time Calla said, "I'm sorry."  
Professor Snape quirked an eyebrow.  
"You see, I - I'd read about trolls in books. I thought I could handle it, so I came here."  
"That's where she found me," Calla put in faintly, knowing that Quirrel would find a weak link in the story if she didn't. "I - I was upset in Defense Against the Dark Arts - Sorry about that, by the way, Professor, I really don't know what happened - and came here on my own."  
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I said I could take it on myself if Calla left, but I was wrong. If she hadn't helped, and the others hadn't arrived, well..." She shifted uncomfortably. "I'd probably be dead."  
McGonagall looked sternly at Hermione, over the rim of her wire framed glasses. "Be that as it may, Miss Granger, thinking you could take on a full grown mountain troll was sheer idiocy. As for Miss Potter," Calla kneaded her fingers together, "Running out of a class is still against the rules. Five points from each of you. And as for the rest of you... I doubt many first years could have taken on a fully grown mountain troll. Five points will be awarded to each of your houses."  
Despite her own punishment, which Calla considered was probably deserved, Calla couldn't stop herself from breaking into a grin. "Now," Flitwick squeaked, stepping out from behind McGonagall and Snape. "If Miss Potter, Patil, anf Greengrass would come with me back to Ravenclaw Tower?"  
The three girls nodded, trooping back towards their dorm with damp robes. Still, from that day forward, it seemed there was some newly formed bond with the six students in the bathroom. And as of Halloween night, they were friends.


	8. Quidditch

November 16th

The morning of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch March dawned bright and early. Despite the sunlight, there was still a November chill in the air, and out the window of her dorm Calla could see golden and copper leaves cascading down from the trees. “Morning,” Daphne yawned, tossing off her duvet. Calla was already dressed, despite the other girls all being asleep. She was waiting for Uncle Moony’s letter to come back confirming whether or not he’d be at the Quidditch match, and had ended up waking up early in her excitement for Harry’s first Quidditch match.

“You’re not waiting for your owl again, are you?” Daphne asked, giggling lightly. “Honestly, who are you even writing to?”

Calla rolled her eyes. “My godfather,” she replied, opening the window to peer out. Still no sign of Moony. She slumped backwards, crossing her arms in irritation.

“You’ve got a godfather?” Daphne asked, and Calla could hear the frown in her voice. “That’s not in any of the books.”

“So?” Calla asked. “My favourite colour’s purple, and Harry’s is green, but that’s not in any of the books either.”

Daphne considered this for a moment. “Your brother’s favourite colour is green?”

“Yup.” Calla peered out the window. “The irony isn’t lost on either of us, believe me.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, before Daphne declared that she was going to get changed and left Calla alone. “Hurry up, Moony,” she whispered impatiently, tapping her foot on the floor. She wanted to get down to the Great Hall early, after all, because she didn’t know how early Harry had to be at the Quidditch Pitch for, and she needed to wish him luck.

“You’re up early, Potter,” said Isobel’s voice. “Is your brother excited for Quidditch?”

“He can’t wait,” Calla told her. “I just hope he doesn’t end up getting himself injured or anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Izzy laughed. “Say, you don’t fancy trying out for the Ravenclaw team next year? It might run in your family.”

Calla snorted. Isobel and the others knew perfectly well her feelings about flying - she didn’t mind it if it was necessary, but she’d much rather keep two feet firmly on the ground. “I think I’ll pass,” she chuckled, as Daphne left the bathroom.

“Wait on me, you two,” Isobel said. “Sue, Lisa, and Mandy said they’ll go to the library today while it’s quiet, and have a lie-in, so I’ll go down to the Great Hall with you two and Padma.”

“Cool,” Daphne said nonchalantly, sitting down on her bed and tying the laces on her shoes. Calla still wasn’t sure she’d get used to Daphne’s regular clothing look. Today, for example, she was wearing a short black dress with a chiffon skirt and black tights, with a scarlet robe thrown over the top. There were gold ribbons holding her plaited hair in place, and she had numerous scarlet and gold bangles decorating her arms, which made an oddly satisfying chinking sound together every time she moved. And then, he shoes. Daphne owned more shoes than Calla had ever seen. Today she had on little golden ankle boots with a slight heel and red embroidery, something Calla would have never have managed to pull off. She supposed it must be a result of her friend’s pure blood upbringing, but she knew how to dress well in any circumstance, even for a wizard. And wizards weren’t usually very good with fashion, at least not in Calla’s eyes.

By the time Uncle Moony’s letter had arrived, both Daphne and Isobel were ready, and Padma was in the bathroom.

To Calla, read Uncle Moony’s hasty scrawl.

Unfortunately, I can’t attend Harry’s Quidditch match today. My condition has posed some issues this month and as such I’ve been rather ill, too ill to present myself in public at your school. I’m incredibly sorry, as I would have loved to see you both in person, but hopefully I’ll be able to make it to Gryffindor’s next match. Tell Harry good luck for me, and I’m sure he’ll perform spectacularly.

Love,

Uncle Moony

It was a rather short letter, and Calla would have been lying if she said she wasn’t a tad disappointed, though she knew she couldn’t blame her godfather for something so completely outwith his control. She wrote a hasty reply and sent it off with Moony, who gave on indignant hoot before flying out the window.

“Godfather?” Daphne guessed.

Calla nodded. “He was going to come to the match, but he can’t. He, er, isn’t feeling well.”

“That sucks,” Isobel observed. “Still, at least Harry’ll have you.”

“Suppose so,” Calla shrugged, as Padma left the bathroom.

“Shall we go down, then?” Daphne asked, and the girls followed her downstairs.

“Morning, guys!” Anthony Goldstein shouted, as the Ravenclaw boy’s left their dormitory. “Are you all going to watch the match?”

“We are,” Daphne replied. “Sue, Lisa, and Mandy are studying all day.”

Terry pulled a face. “I can’t be bothered studying. What’s the point in going over things we already know, when there’s so much more we could be actually learning?”

Padma shrugged, leaving the dorm. “To make sure it sticks in our heads, I suppose. Still a bit annoying, though. Lisa’s doing my head in by the way, don’t know if you’ve noticed?”

While the others nodded, Calla stayed silent, following Daphne. “She’s been a tight twit as of late,” Michael Corner said, as if he wasn’t the hypocrite to end all hypocrites with that statement. “I think it’s to do with the fact that she’s bottom of all the Ravenclaws in every subject apart from Herbology.” They turned to stare at him, confused. “What? I was curious, so I looked in Flitwick’s desk when he was speaking to Seamus Finnigan about why he should stop setting everything on fire. You’re top of Charms, by the way, Calla,” he added, and Calla felt a slight heat rush to her cheeks. She’d half expected Hermione to be top. “Mind you, Granger’s top of mostly everything else, and Malfoy’s best at Potions.”

That made a bit more sense to Calla.

“D’you reckon they have, like, rankings of whose most likely to set the school on fire?” Anthony asked. “Because I think Seamus would do quite well in that respect.”

Daphne snorted, and everyone turned to stare at her. “Well it’s true!” she giggled, leaning over to give Anthony a high-five. “And Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re officially my favourite Ravenclaw guy. Sorry, Boot, Corner.”

“I’m very disappointed,” Terry deadpanned, as Michael rolled his eyes. “Really, I’m about to burst into tears.”

“Shut up, Terry,” Padma laughed, shoving her friend playfully into a wall. Calla couldn’t help but wince; even though she knew Padma and Terry never meant any harm by their actions towards each other, sometimes it was all too reminiscent of her childhood with Dudley, and she always took a minute to snap out of her thoughts.

“There’s Harry over there,” Daphne said, pointing to the Gryffindor table where Calla’s brother sat, surrounded by Hermione and Ron. “D’you want to go over?”

“I’ll get some toast first,” Calla said, following the others to the Ravenclaw table. “I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Padma said. “But I’d be quick - apparently the Quidditch players have to go down quite early.”

Once Calla had had a slice of toast, she made her way to the Gryffindor table, flanked by Daphne and Padma, dropping into a seat beside Harry. “You nervous?” she whispered, and Harry nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he hissed, “but there’s a good chance I’m going to be sick on the Quidditch pitch.”

Calla smiled at him softly. “I don’t blame you, Harry,” she laughed. “But no matter your nerves, I’m sure you’ll do great, okay? I’ll be right in the stands cheering for you the whole way through, promise.”

Harry cracked a smile, turning his emerald eyes on his sister. “Thanks, Cal,” he murmured, eneveloping her in a quick hug. “Do you know if Uncle Moony’s managaing to make it.”

“He’s too ill,” Calla said, looking down. “He says he’ll try and make it to your next match, though.”

“Oh.” Harry prodded At bacon with his fork but didn’t eat anything. “Okay.”

“You know he’ll still be rooting for you,” Calla assured him. “And he said to me to tell you he’s sure you’ll be spectacular.”

“He did?”

“Of course he did, you silly!” Calla giggled. “Now, have you actually eaten anything yet, because that plate looks fairly untouched.”

“I’ve been telling him that all morning!” Hermione butted in. “He needs his energy to make sure he can be at his best on the pitch!”

“Give it a rest, Hermione,” Harry huffed, and Calla prodded him sharply in the shoulder.

“She’s right, Harry,” Calla told him. “Come on, just a bit of toast or something. I don’t want you fainting on the pitch just because you didn’t eat anything for breakfast.”

“Fine, fine.” Harry conceded, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. Calla handed him a bit of toast and he picked at it. Well, Calla thought, at least he ate it.

Harry had to leave soon after, and Calla gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek before he left, still a bundle of nerves. “He’s terrified,” she observed, returning to the Ravenclaw table with Daphne and Padma.

“Like you wouldn’t be?” Daphne giggled, linking arms with her friends. “I just want to see the look on Terrence Higgs’ face when Harry gets the snitch from right under his nose!”

They all laughed then, robes whirling as they sat down at the table, waiting for the moment when they could go down to the Quidditch Pitch.

By the time they found Ron, Hermione, and Neville in the Quidditch stands, Calla’s hands were about frozen off and she was really wishing she’d brought gloves with her. Still, the Gryffindor scarf she’d sneaked from Harry was warm and she held her hands in it, tying to warm them up.

“You guys took your time,” Ron said, and Calla stuck out her tongue. It was refreshing, she thought, to have this wide group of friends around her and have the freedom to act like herself, like she always acted with Harry before this Summer.

“We prefer not to get unnecessarily freezing,” Daphne sniffed, and Ron rolled his eyes. He still didn’t like Daphne, for whatever strange wizard reason. “Unlike Gryffindors.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked petulantly, as Hermione laid a hand on his arm.

“Relax, Ron,” she sighed. “We saved seats for you guys.” She frowned, noticing for the first time the three Ravenclaw boys and Isobel behind Padma, Daphne, and Calla. “I’m sure we can all squeeze in.”

Calla roared with appreciation as, shortly after they sat down, Harry came out with the Gryffindor team. “Go Harry!” she shouted, clapping. Her brother turned to her, and though she could tell he was nervous, he still managed to grin in Calla’s direction.

A couple of Slytherins glared at her, and she resisted for a moment the urge to cower away form them. No, she thought. Why should they dictate how she supported her own twin brother?

Before Calla knew it, the Quidditch players were rising up in the air and Harry was higher than all of them, scouring the pitch for any sign, any little glimmer of gold. She just hoped he didn’t get himself hurt. It had been her primary concern when he told her about being put on the team - that and his stupidity in going after Malfoy outside, though she supposed she might very well have done the same in the circumstances.

About thirty minutes into the game, Calla was growing bored. Harry had barely moved, and she was struggling to follow all the other players. She recognised the Weasley twins as beaters, and the team captain and keeper, Oliver Wood, but she couldn’t keep track of the three Chaser girls, who kept weaving and diving in the air.

“What’s up with Harry’s broom?” Padma asked, and Calla turned her attention sharply to her brother.

To her horror, the broom was bucking up and down with Harry on it, and he seemed to be clinging to it with all his strength. “Harry!” she screeched. “What’s happening?”

Harry either couldn’t hear her or couldn’t reply. The broom jerked away and Harry very nearly went crashing to the ground, holding onto the broom with just his hands. “Hermione, are you doing?” she asked as her friend grabbed her hand.

“Snape’s jinxing the broom,” Hermione told her, fire in her warm brown eyes. “I know a jinx when I see one, now come on, we have to do something!”

Letting herself be dragged to the teachers’ box, Calla frowned. While she didn’t doubt that Snape didn’t like Harry, it didn’t make any sense for him to do this, especially not since he was liable to be caught; even a first year could work it out, though granted Hermione was more intelligent than most first years. “Wait, Hermione,” Calla hissed. “Think about this. Why would Snape do this?”

“He hates Harry,” Hermione said plainly. “And hes clearly casting some kind of jinx.”

“Are you sure it isn’t a counter jinx?” Calla asked. “It might not be him - or there could be something wrong with the broom itself and he’s trying to fix it?”

“Why would Snape help Harry, though?” Hermione asked, frowning. “He hates him.”

“I’m just saying,” Calla sighed. “We should at least analyse the situation before we go in hot headed and do something that’s probably against the rules anyhow.”

“We don’t have time!” Hermione hissed back. “What if Harry falls off?”

Calla had to admit: that was definitely not something she wanted to see. If only Uncle Moony were here - he’d know what to do.

And he’d want her to have all the facts. And not get into trouble.

“Okay,” Calla said. “To maintain a jinx or counter jinx you have to be able to see the victim, right?”

“Correct,” Hermione agreed.

“So we cause a distraction, make sure no one is still looking at Harry. We’ll work out if it really is Snape later.”

Though Hermione still seemed certain that Snape was to blame, she nodded reluctantly. “Your brother, your decision,” she said. “What are we going to do?”

“You’ve read all the books, haven’t you?” Calla asked, and Hermione nodded, eyes lighting up. “Then it’s up to you.”

Calla hadn’t exactly expected Hermione to set Snape’s bloody robes on fire, but it got the job done. Every teacher’s gaze was broken away from the match and by the time they returned to their friends, Harry was back on his broom safely, and was diving towards the snitch.

“What were you two up to?” Ron asked.

“Saving Harry’s life,” Hermione told him.

“The usual.”

There was great roar and Calla looked away from Ron to see Harry on the pitch, looking like he was about to throw up. “Harry?” she shouted, and he turned to stare at her, before opening his mouth like he was about to spew. “Oh no,” she groaned, but all that came out was a tiny speck of gold.

“Harry Potter has caught the golden snitch!” the commentator, a Gryffindor called Lee something, shouted. “Gryffindor wins!”

The stands erupted into chaotic excitement, roaring and shouting and slapping each other on the back. “He did it!” Calla cheered, hugging Daphne and Hermione. “He did it!”

As Harry held the snitch up in his hand, the Gryfindors gave lions roars of appreciation, and Calla and her friends rushed down to the pitch to greet Harry as he left. “That was amazing, Harry!” Ron roared, thumping Harry on the back, and his green eyes went wide.

“Uh, thanks,” Harry said, albeit slightly nervously.

“What happened to your broom, though, Harry?” Calla fretted, hugging him. “Are you okay? I was so worried you were going to get hurt!”

“So was I!” Harry said, looking down sheepishly. “But it turned out okay in the end - I just don’t know what happened.”

“It was Snape!” Hermione blurted, and Calla groaned. She really wasn’t letting up with this. “He was jinxing your broom.”

“We don’t actually have any evidence,” Calla put in.

“But I’m certain it was him. He has a motive, and I know what a jinx looks like; it was definitely Snape!”

Harry and the others looked between them confusedly. “What?” Harry asked, confused. “You think - you think Snape was jinxing my broom?”

“Hermione does,” Calla clarifies. “I think he could very well have been doing a counter jinx or trying to help you in another way. Snape’s a prat, and, no offense, it’s fairly clear he doesn’t like you, but I don’t think he’d go so far as to actually put you in danger like that.” She shrugged. “Hermione set his robes on fire anyway.” She was still bloody annoyed about that - Snape could have been hurt, and if it had gone wrong it could have spread all over the wooden stands - but Hermione had been pretty adamant in her justification of her actions.

“My family knows Snape,” Daphne said. “I don’t like him, but I agree with Calla. He wouldn’t actually try to get you, Harry.”

Calla gave her an appreciative smile, before turning back to a rather annoyed looking Hermione. “I still think we should be wary of him,” Hermione said, shaking her hair out. “Now, Harry, you should go and get a shower after that match or something, and Calla didn’t you say we would see Hagrid later?”

“Yup, I told him we’d be down shortly after the game.” She gave her brother a critical look over. “And I agree with Hermione, Harry - you should definitely get washed up. You stink.”

“Gee, what a loving sister I have,” Harry laughed, and Calla shook her head, pushing him in the direction of the changing rooms lightly.

“See you in a minute!”

Once Harry had left the changing rooms, the group of six trooped down to Hagrid’s hut, smiling as they walked into the welcoming heat. “Afternoon, Hagrid!” Hermione greeted, smiling and waving at the jolly half-giant.

“Ah, afternoon, you lot,” he beamed, turning around with a platter of what looked like his infamous rock cakes. Calla hid her wince, recalling exactly what put the ‘rock’ in ‘rock cake’. “Hear’ you was quite brilliant at the Quidditch, ‘Arry,”

Harry blushed, and Calla grinned at him. “He would have been better if Snape hadn’t bloody jinxed his broom,” Ron muttered, and Hagrid frowned.

“What do you mean, Snape jinxed his broom?” Hagrid demanded, bushy eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Snape wouldn’ jinx Harry’s broom.”

“Hagrid, all the evidence points to him,” Padma said softly, large eyes almost patronising him. “We’re sure of it.”

“I’m not sure of it,” Calla spoke up, and the others swivelled to her. She shrugged. “We don’t have any solid proof, and he might have been saying a countercurse or something to help Harry, I don’t know. Besides, he’s a teacher.”

“Exactly!” Hagrid cries. “What reason would Snape have to jinx Harry’s broom?” For some reason, he didn’t quite meet their eyes, and Calla frowned. Clearly, he was hiding something, but she didn’t want to press - that would just make the others more certain of Snape’s guiltiness.

“He was trying to get past that three headed dog on Halloween,” Harry said, and Calla groaned.

“Not this again,” Daphne huffed. “He was limping - maybe he sprained his ankle running up the stairs to save everybody’s arse.”

Hagrid’s eyes glinted like he thought he should correct Daphne on his language, but he seemed to decide against. “Who told you about Fluffy, anyway?” Hagrid asked, and everybody swivelled to stare at him.

Calla’s mind went into overdrive. When she’d told Harry about the incident with that dog, he’d said that he was probably there for a reason, and Padma had observed that it appeared to be standin on some kind of trapdoor. She’d brushed it off - it was a magic school, a three headed dog wasn’t as exciting as it might have been - but if Hagrid knew about it, if he’d called it Fluffy...

“You called that thing Fluffy?” Ron was asking. He sounded incredulous, and Calla wasn’t altogether surprised. Of course Hagrid would call it Fluffy - it was the most ironic name possible for a three headed dog that looked like it belonged in the Underworld of Greek mythology.

“It was guarding something, and Snape must want to get past it,” Padma said, and Calla and Daphne both sighed. “Maybe it’s dangerous! You know, Parvati says that Lavender told her that Snape used to be in the Dark Arts - Hagrid, what’s in there?”

Hagrid, who’d been quiet for a while, now spoke up in indignance. “Don’t go meddling, you lot!” he cried, wagging his finger in the air. “What’s down there’s between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel?”

“Who?” Hermione asked, frowning. Calla could see the gears turning in her head, and she admitted she recognised the name, too.

“Shouldn’t have said that,” Hagrid was muttering. “I should not have said that.”

“Hagrid?”

“Out of here, the lot of you,” Hagrid said sharply. “Go on, and don’t ask anymore questions!”

“But Hagrid, what about Nicholas Flamel?” Daphne asked, suddenly interested - maybe she just wanted to find things out quicker than Hermione did to satisfy her own petty competitive streak.

“Out!” Hagrid demanded, ushering them outside. “And don’t get involved!”

The door closed in their faces and they all blinked in surprise. “Well done, you lot,” Calla muttered. “Now Hagrid’s upset with us.”

“I’m going to go and speak to Parvati,” Padma said decisively, as she turned on her heel and made her way up to the castle.

“I should, er, write my parents,” Hermione said awkwardly, and Daphne nodded. “You too, Ronald.”

“What?” Ron asked, quite lost as Hermione and Daphne both began to drag him away up the path to the castle.

“You really don’t think it was Snape?” Harry asked after a moment of tension.

“I have no idea who it was, Harry,” Calla sighed honestly, linking her arm through his. “But I don’t think it was Snape for sure, because there’s not enough evidence. It could just as easily have been one of the other professors, or some Slytherin upper year, or maybe the broom had a default or something.”

“It’s a great broom,” Harry said. “Ron told me so - that’s not the issue.”

She could come back to Harry’s over dependence on Ronald for his wizarding knowledge another time. “Okay, so maybe not that, then,” Calla huffed, as they began walking up to School. “But we can’t immediately decide it’s Snape now, not until we’ve got all the right evidence. And keep an eye out, Harry. Just in case.”


	9. Christmas Time

December 19th  
The Hogwarts Castle had slowly slipped into the cold darkness typical of the Scottish Highlands, grey clouds overhead swirling with unfallen snow. Flitwick had come around the Ravenclaw Common Room earlier with a sign up sheet for students staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, and after a quick conversation with Harry they'd decided that, while the castle looked lovely covered in snow and Christmas decorations, that they should go to Uncle Moony's for Christmas as he'd invited them. As such, Calla was already deciding what she needed to pack for the couple of weeks away from Hogwarts, and what was safe to leave behind in her dormitory.

After a particularly exciting Potions lesson where they'd managed to successfully brew an Antidote to Most Common Potions, and Calla had for the first time secured five points for Ravenclaw from Snape, she decided to sort through all her belongings, some of which were scattered across the dormitory, to make packing easier when the time came.

She trooped through the tower and entered her dormitory, set on collecting stuff to her trunk before she noticed Daphne curled on the bed, sobbing gently. "Daphne?" she asked cautiously, moving towards the girl. "Daphne, what's wrong?"

Daphne turned to her, wiping her eyes. "It's - it's nothing," she said firmly, though her eyes watered and tears threatens to spill over dangerously. "I was just getting my Charms textbook to study."

"You were crying," Calla said, sitting down beside her fair haired friend. "Daphne, you know you can trust me, right?"

"I don't want to talk to you just now," Daphne spat, standing up abruptly, and Calla leapt away, eyes widening in confusion. Daphne seemed angry at her, though she couldn't work out why.

"What's wrong?" Calla asked again, frowning with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "Come on, Daph, talk to me."

"Just leave me alone, Potter," Daphne snarled, and the vindictiveness of her voice made Calla startle. She caught the icy anger that flashed in Daphne's pale blue eyes and recoiled sharply. When Calla didn't move, Daphne stood up abruptly and whirled last, knocking Calla onto the bed as she passed and slammed the door behind her.

Calla's heart pounded. She didn't understand why Daphne was all of a sudden so inclined to hate her, or why her voice had been so cold, as if she'd never even liked Calla. She was still on the bed, sitting frozen and staring at the door. Years of living with the Dursleys had, of course, made her used to violence and anger, but that was from her relatives, who had never once acted like her friend. Daphne was different, and Calla didn't understand what was going on.

With a sigh, Calla made a start on packing the rest of her things, waiting until Daphne had calmed down before she spoke to her best friend again. Daphne had said that she would be going home for holidays, but maybe her plans had changed. If that was the case, Calla was sure she still had time to ask Uncle Moony if Daphne could stay with them, if she wanted to. She'd have to ask her later.

Once Calla had finished packing her trunk, she headed to the library. Harry was waiting for her outside of the Ravenclaw common room, as they'd wanted to check out some books before leaving for the Christmas holidays. Hermione had been insistent on this topic ever since Hagrid let it slip about Nicholas Flamel, although personally Calla was getting bored of it, and she knew the rest of their friends were as well.

Unlike the rest of them, Ron was going to be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas with his brothers, as their parents and sister were visiting one of his other brothers, Charlie, in Romania. Apparently Charlie studied dragons, a subject Calla was still fascinated by. Harry had offered to ask Uncle Moony if Ron could stay with them, but Ron declined it, saying that he always spent Christmas with his family, and Hogwarts was supposed to be nice at the holidays anyway. Calla thought he might have still been a bit envious over it, but didn't press the matter. Ron was, for want of a better word, rather tetchy around the subject of his family.

Entering the library, the twins found Padma, Hermione, and Ron already huddled around a table, alongside Padma's sister Parvati, who looked even more bored than Ron was. "Glad you two could make it," Hermione greeted cheerily, not even looking up from the large, dusty tone in front of her. "Are you all packed for the holidays?"

"Almost," Harry said, and Calla threw him a glare. He said that he'd be finished packing already. "What?"

"Boys," Calla huffed, taking a seat between Padma and Hermione. "They never do listen."

"Look," Hermione said, and they all turned to her. "I know everyone except Ron's going home for Christmas, but could we at least try and find out some stuff while we're away. My parents won't be much help - they're dentists - but you all are staying with wizards, right?"

She looked around for affirmation, and in doing so seemed to notice Daphne's absence. "Where's Daphne?" Hermione asked, frowning. "She said she'd be here. Is she still packing, Calla?"

"I don't know," Calla shrugged. "She was... upset, when I went in the dorms, then she left. I don't know where she is now."

"Oh," Hermione said. She frowned for a moment, as if contemplating this matter, before squaring her shoulders. "Well, I'm sure she'll be fine soon, if we don't see her then we can go and find her. But the point is here, we need to find out all that we can about Nicholas Flamel. Right?"

They all nodded in agreement.

December 23rd  
A few days later, the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross Station and Harry and Calla leapt to their feet. They'd managed to find a compartment to fit them with Hermione, Padma, Parvati, and Lavender Brown. Daphne hadn't spoken to Calla since their 'argument', and though she was somewhat concerned over this, she chose not to let it ruin her Christmas. It was the first year they'd spent Christmas just with Uncle Moony, as he'd invited them to his house, since the Dursleys were not fans of having the Potters for any longer than was necessary. Personally, Calla couldn't care less. She'd much rather stay with Uncle Moony during the Summer holidays, too, but apparently that wasn't allowed.

"Have a nice holiday!" Padma and Parvati called over their shoulders, leaving to join their parents. Though they had celebrated Diwali in early November with their parents after getting permission from Dumbledore, they were still visiting their family for New Year's celebrations, and were pretty excited for it.

Lavender was attempting to keep up chatter with Harry and Hermione about their Potions homework, but she wasn't getting anywhere, and looked almost relieved when she joined her family.

"Whereabouts do you think Uncle Moony will be, Harry?" Calla asked, peering around for his familiar sandy hair and warm eyes. "He said he'd be here already."

"Maybe he's just got caught up in the crowd," Harry reasoned. "We'll find him in a minute. 'Mione, have you spotted your mum and dad?"

"Not yet," Hermione replied, craning her neck. "Oh, wait - they're just over there. Come on, you can wait with us until Calla's godfather arrives."

Hermione lead them over to a black couple with kind faces, who welcomed their daughter with a warm hug. "These must be the twins Hermione told us about!" Mrs Granger exclaimed, smiling at them both. "You do look so alike."

"Is your godfather here, yet?" Hermione's father asked excitedly. "I really would love to meet him - he's a wizard, too, isn't he?"

"Er, yes," Harry said. He, like Calla, clearly thought that it would be against their best interests to inform the Granger's of Uncle Moony being a werewolf. "He'll be here in a minute."

A few minutes passed and the platform began to slowly empty, as a figure sprinted through the barrier. "Calla!" Uncle Moony shouted. "Harry! I'm so sorry I'm running late!"

He bounded over to them both, picking both twins up into bear hugs. "Merry Christmas!"

Putting the twins down, he looked up pleasantly at the Granger family. "You must be Calla's godfather, then," Mrs Granger said, smiling at him and not seeming to give a joy about his slightly dishevelled appearance. "It's lovely to meet you. I'm Jean Granger, and this is my husband, Robert."

"Remus Lupin," Uncle Moony said, shaking both Grangers' hands. "And I suppose this is Hermione? Calla and Harry have said a lot about you."

"Oh, it's lovely to know Hermione's made friends," Jean Granger said with a warm smile. "Now, I hear you are a wizard, too - tell me about this castle they've been living in, I hope they have preparations for flu season."

The parents began to strike up amicable chatter as all six of them bustled back towards the barrier, slinking back into the Muggle world. Uncle Moony was getting on like a house on fire with Hermione's parents, and as they parted ways they decided that they simply must meet up at some point during the holidays, much to the children's delight.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever, Calla decided, standing outside in the crisp London sunlight, moments before Uncle Moony apparated them away.

The twins had very rarely visited Uncle Mooney's house previously, only when Mrs Figg across the road was unavailable for babysitting duty and the Dursleys didn't want the twins inside the house alone. They'd had to go there on Dudley's most recent birthday, when he had gotten to go to the zoo, but honestly neither twin had minded much. It had been only a week or so before the first Hogwarts letters had arrived, and Calla realised this with a jolt. Had it really been so long ago? Almost half the school year was over already, but it had felt like no time at all.

Uncle Mooney's house had barely changed since June. The walls in the living room were still painted in a warm maroon colour, just a tad darker than the scarlet of Harry's Gryffindor tie, and the bedroom that Harry and Calla were to be sharing over the holidays smelled distinctly of new paint. Calla noticed with an ounce of satisfaction that it was her favourite colour, blue, rather than Harry's favourite green. Then again, in true Gryffindor style, Uncle Moony probably hadn't been inclined to paint anything in his house green.

Once the twins had unpacked their trunks in their room, opening the windows to get the smell of paint out, they rushed down the stairs and into the living room, where Uncle Moony was reading over a book. "You two unpacked, then?" Uncle Moony asked with a small smile. They nodded, and he shut his book. "Good. Now, which would you two rather do: go to the park, or visit Diagon Alley? I'm sure you both have presents still to get for your friends, and I've got a few things to pick up, too."

The twins exchanged excited glances. "Definitely Diagon Alley," Calla said, grinning with bright eyes. "Hermione mentioned something about needing new ink for her quill, and I'm sure there's lots of books that she'd like from Flourish and Blotts."  
"That's it settled, then," Uncle Moony said, getting up with a sigh. "Come on, if you get your jackets and shoes on quickly then we'll Floo there for tea."

It took a short while for Uncle Moony to explain how Floo powder was used before they all successfully arrived in the Leaky Cauldron, slightly sooty but not altogether any worse for wear. "Where to first, then?" Uncle Moony asked.

"Dinner," Harry said instantly, and Calla giggled as his stomach rumbled and his cheeks went pink. "If - if that's alright?"

Uncle Moony snorted with barely concealed laughter. "Of course, Harry. Matter of fact, I was getting hungry myself."

They managed to find space in a little booth for the three of them to sit, looking at menus. Harry's eyes were still wide after the excitement of the Floo powder, as he peered down at the menu.

"Can I take your orders, please?" asked a waitress, who smiled at them like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Cal?" Harry asked, prompting her to speak.

"Er, I'll just have the Shepherd' Pie, please," she said in a quiet voice, as the waitress frowned.

"Can you repeat that, love?" she asked, and Calla gritted her teeth.

"She said Shepherd's Pie," Harry supplied, and the waitress's eyes opened in wonder when she looked at him.

"Are you-" she seemed to choke for a moment. "Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry stared at her. "Yeah."

The waitress's mouth fell open, and she whirled around to stare at Calla. "And so you must be Calla, right?" Calla nodded timidly. "Blimey. D'you mind, my mum'd love to know I've met you two, could you sign this?"

She thrust a scrap piece of parchment under Harry's nose, and both twins stared at it like it was a time bomb, just waiting for the right moment to go off. "Uh, I don't-"

"They're eleven," Uncle Moony said, frowning at the waitress. "We'd appreciate if you didn't bother for an autograph."

The waitress nodded sharply, snatching back the piece of parchment. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Wasn't thinking. Of course. Shepherd's Pie: who else?"

"I'll have the same," Harry said, and Uncle Moony nodded affirmatively.

"Three shepherd's pies then," he said, handing the waitress their menus.

"Of course, sir. Any drinks I could get you - butter beer, perhaps?"

Calla and Harry both perked up at that. Butter beer? They hadn't heard of that before, but it definitely sounded interesting. "Three butterbeers, and a jug of gillywater, then," Uncle Moony said, still maintaining a placid smile. "Thank you."  
As the waitress left and brought them their drinks, the conversation turned towards Hogwarts. "So, then Ron said that he'd be my second," Harry was saying, as Calla rolled her eyes. It was the truly wonderful story of how Harry had almost gotten himself into yet another detention by starting a bloody midnight duel with Draco Malfoy. Thankfully, Daphne wasn't stupid and had cottoned on to exactly what Malfoy's plan was, stopping Harry and Ron from being absolute idiots and getting caught out of bed at night. "So it turned out alright in the end," Harry finished. "Thanks to Calla and Daphne, that is."  
"Mostly Daphne, to be honest," Calla said, and she supposed there must have been an edge to her voice as both Harry and Uncle Moony frowned at her. "What?"  
"No, it's just..." Harry paused. "I was wondering where Daphne got to on the Express. I haven't actually seen her much the last few days."  
Calla shrugged. She'd been trying not to think about Daphne, but it had proven difficult recently and she had to admit, she was worried about it. "She and I had a - a bit of an argument at the end of term," she admitted, and both her brother and her godfather frowned as though they disapproved deeply of her. "I don't know what happened - she had a letter and looked upset, but when I tried to reach out to her she just snapped." She looked down, feeling tears prick at her eyes though she pushed them away. "We havent spoken since."  
"Do you know what the letter was about?" Uncle Moony asked, in a kind voice that didn't seem to match his frowning eyes.  
"No," Calla scoffed. "She wouldn't tell me. I just know that clearly, it upset her, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She's avoiding me too - I only see her in the dorms at night."  
"Do you think you could try and talk to her after you've gone back, once she's had a bit of reflection on whatever the issue was? Or you could send a letter, you both still have your owls with you."  
Calla shook her head. "She's the one who doesn't want to talk to me. When she's ready, I think she'll come and find me, or Hermione, or Padma. Or Harry," she added as an afterthought, which made her brother laugh.  
"She still doesn't much like Ron, does she?" Harry asked, chuckling.  
"It's not that," Calla huffed. "She just has a sort of expectation of him that is hard to get over - you know his family are known as blood traitors. The Greengrasses aren't as extreme as others, but Ron and Hermione are still ... different to her. She likes Hermione because Hermione isn't as much of a prat all the time."  
"Ron's not a prat!" Harry insisted.  
"He is sometimes," Calla replied, smirking. "Don't get me wrong, I love him too, but he's still a prat."  
Just then, the waitress set down their meals and left them to it, though Calla noticed she still kept a watch on them with curious eyes.  
Once they'd had their food, the trio went out into the Main Street. It was becoming dark now, but the magical lights that hung overhead like constellations illuminated the whole scene, and it might as well have been noon. "Five o'clock," Uncle Moony said, checking his watch. "What do you two say we meet back at the Leaky Cauldron for half past six? I trust that you two can look after yourselves for a bit while I run a couple of errands."

"Of course," Harry said, a little too enthusiastic for Calla's tastes as he looked over at Quality Quidditch Supplies. There was no way in hell he was going to get her on a broom, or drag her around the shop for an hour and a half.  
"Thank you, Uncle Moony," Calla said politely, hugging her godfather tightly for a few seconds. "Come on, Harry, you've got the money. We're going to Flourish and Blott's first, then Scrivener's Quills."  
"What about Quality Quidditch Supplies?" Harry asked petulantly, earning a chuckle from Uncle Moony.  
"If we go in there, you'll never leave," Calla reasoned. "Only if we have time."  
"I'll leave you two to it," Uncle Moony decided with a smirk, heading in the direction of the Apothecary.  
"Come on, Harry," Calla sighed, grabbing her still complaining brother's hand. "Let's look at some books for Hermione!"  
He groaned, but went on willingly.  
Though the bookshop was almost deserted, there was still a warm comfort that surrounded it as Calla and Harry delved inside. "Right," Calla said. "Hermione enjoys History of Magic, so we could get her a book to do with that, though she's always saying that she wants to do better in Potions since Malfoy's always beating her out for top spot and Snape hates all you Gryffindors, so maybe a couple of books on each? And then, of course, the ink."  
"Wait, is this from both of us?" Harry asked, sounding surprised, and Calla stared at her.  
"What, have you managed to find your own gifts for everyone?" Harry looked down sheepishly. "Thought not. Now, moving on to Padma. She said that she wants to do better in Herbology, so I could get her a book about that, but then her favourite subject is Charms, and Uncle Moony told me about a very handy study guide for that in a letter..." She trailed off, musing as she browsed the shelves. "Then again, would it be proper to get Padma something? She celebrates Diwali, but that was is November this year and I'm not sure if it's customary to exchange gifts for that or not."  
She looked to Harry for an answer, but he was still staring at her. "In what world are books a good present for everyone? I'd much rather sweets or some Quidditch stuff."  
"When all your friends are interested in them," Calla replied, biting that extra hint of information for later. "Besides, I'll get them other things besides books to go in with it, and I'm not getting a book for Ron, because I know he won't appreciate it like Hermione, Padma, and Daphne will. Which reminds me - did you see any jewellery shops around here? Only I think Daphne would appreciate earrings or something."  
"We're still getting her a present?" Harry asked, confused.  
"Obviously," Calla said, rolling her eyes. "She's still our friend. Now, we still haven't decided about Padma."  
"I'm sure I overheard Parvati talking to Lavender about a gift she got for Diwali once," Harry said, concentrating. "So, yes. Even though it's a bit late, I think she'll appreciate the gesture."  
"Good," Calla said. It felt strangely good to be doing this; shopping for Christmas and Diwali gifts for all of her friends. She and Harry had barely had money to spend on themselves before, other than the odd fifty pence for Christmas or a birthday, and now that they'd discovered their fortunes in Gringotts, Calla was determined to spend her money well. And, in the mind of an eleven year old girl, this meant spending as much as she wanted on her friends. "So, that's settled. The History and Potions books for Hermione, and the Charms book for Padma, then?" Harry nodded. "Great. The Charms one was called A Witch's Guide to Proficiency in Charms, see if you can find it anywhere."  
It didn't take long for them to find all the books they needed in Flourish and Blotts, and Calla noticed with a smirk that Harry had stayed behind to 'tie his shoelace' and left with a slightly lighter money bag and a book shaped item stowed under his cloak.  
"Scrivener's next," Calla declared, setting off towards the stationery shop. "I saw this nice colour changing ink, I think Hermione would like that, in addition to a practical ink. Also, see if there's any pretty quills in there - remember, her favourite colour is orange."  
"Orange," Harry wrinkled his nose. "How'd you know that?"  
"I asked," Calla said simply, and he looked vaguely confused by this declaration. "Oh, come on, Harry. Don't you want to know who we're spending all our time with. I've got a whole notebook of everyone's likes and dislikes in my trunk, and what subjects thy like and what they struggle with for future reference."  
"Why?" Harry asked, and she shrugged.  
"It could come in handy." Okay, she wa seeing honest here. "And I've been curious." She pushed open the door to the rather run down little store. "Now: orange quills. Got it?"  
"Got it," Harry replied, grinning.  
Once they'd finished all of their shopping - the books, a quill and three pots of ink for Hermione, Padma's charm book and a pretty red scarf, a set of amethyst earrings for Daphne, and a whole basket of sweets for Ron. Calla had also picked up a few pretty quills for Izzy, Sue, and Mandy, not bothering herself about Lisa, as well as some chocolates for Terry, Anthony, and Zacharias Smith. Both twins still needed to get presents for each other and Uncle Moony, so split up at six o'clock, promising to meet a few minutes before half past.  
The second Harry disappeared, Calla ducked into Quality Quidditch Supplies. The shop was filled to the brim with broomsticks, quaffles, bludgers, répit kits, gloves, and a million other things Calla couldn't begin to think about using.  
"Alright there?" a young man asked from behind the counter. "Anything you're looking for in particular?"  
"I'm just looking, thanks," Calla said sweetly. "Do you have anything specific to Seekers? That's my brother's position."  
"Of course, Miss," the young man said. "We've got 'Quidditch Through the Ages: Seeker's Edition' which has a lot about snitches and the evolution of the Seeker position, as well as some practice snitches that don't have the flesh memories installed. Or there's the broomstick repair kit, and we've got some scarves used specially for Quidditch that won't fly off in the wind, but still keep you warm. Say, what Hogwarts house is your brother in? Assuming he's at Hogwarts, still."  
"He's in Gryffindor," Calla said casually, before realising exactly what that meant to the man before her. Really, people had to stop doing the whole gaping goldfish thing.  
"Hes - he's the Gryffindor Seeker? The current one?"  
"He's Harry Potter, yes," Calla sighed. She didn't like how the man was looking at her now - judging rather than kindly, like he was sizing her up and trying to work out exactly who and what she was. "I'm Calla, it's nice to meet you."  
"A - and you, Miss Potter," the man said, blinking slowly to recover from his momentary shock. "Er, So, back to Quidditch. Gryffindor, yes? Yes, of course, sorry. What would you like?"  
She debated inwardly for a moment. "I think the Broomstick Repair Kit." Knowing Harry, he'd need it at some point. "And the scarf could be useful, too, a Gryffindor one."  
"Of course, Miss," the man said, thankfully over his initial shock. "I'll fetch those for you and get you at the till, Okay? If there's anything else you need, just shout."  
"Thanks," Calla smiled, though she didn't want to spend much more time in the Quidditch shop with all those bloody brooms. Even if Harry insisted it was 'the best sport ever invented!' she hated the feeling of being so far off the ground that any wrong move would send her hurtling downwards to her death. Not thanks, she thought. She preferred not to die for a bit of sport.  
Once the cashier had rang up the Repair Kit And scarf, her total came to Twenty one galleons, leaving her with about thirty for Uncle Moony's present, and not long to find it.  
She rushed around the street before she found Harry, grabbing his arm sharply. "Oi," she whispered, startling him. "Have you gotten Uncle Moony's present yet?"  
"No," he shook his head. "Have you?"  
"Not yet," Calla said. "Weve only got about fifteen minutes, should we go together to get something?"  
"Probably," Harry shrugged. "I've got twenty five galleons and ten sickles left, what about you?"  
"Thirty galleons Exactly," Calla said. "Now, any ideas for what to get him?"  
Harry shrugged. "Not anything to do with the full moon," he said, and Calla smacked him on the arm.  
"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "And that wasn't even a funny joke, so be serious."  
"Sorry," he smirked. "He likes books like you do, right? And didn't he say he liked Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care Of Magical Creatures best when he was at school?"  
"Think so," Calla said. "How about that, then? Something to do with Defense - you find that, I'm rubbish in that subject anyway - and something to do with Magical Creatures. What about dragons - those seem cool?"  
"We could get him a dragon," Harry said breathlessly, as though a great idea had just come to him, and Calla snorted with laughter.  
"That's illegal, Harry, but good try," she giggled, as his face fell. "Come on, back to the books."  
In the end, they were only just on time to meet Uncle Moony, having bought him a book about dark creatures, a limited edition copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and some dragon hide gloves that were really Harry's idea rather than Calla's. She had to admit: it was a very good idea for a gift, and she had been a slight bit too caught up in books to consider another gift for her godfather.  
"Got everything you needed?" Uncle Moony asked, and hey both nodded enthusiastically. "Good. Up to apparating back?"  
Calla tried not to wrinkle her nose - it was still preferable to Flooing in that confined fireplace, but side along apparition was far from her favourite mode of transport by this point. Still, it was Christmas.  
December 25th  
Christmas Day dawned and Calla rose with the sun, unable to contain her exictement at the prospect of a Dursley-free Christmas. "Wake up, Harry!" she cried, startling her brother out of bed. He leapt up, eyes wide before his brain clicked and he realised what day it was, and his green eyes widened even further.  
"It's Christmas!" he declared, stating the obvious as Calla chuckled.  
"D'you think Uncle Moony'll be up yet?" Calla asked brightly, leaping out of her own bed. "I can't wait to show him what we got for him - I hope he likes it!"  
"Lets go see!" Harry said, tugging Calla out the door and knocking on Uncle Moony's bedroom door. "Uncle Moony, are you up?"  
After a moment of silence: "Well, I am now."  
"Come on, we want you to open the present from us!" Calla chirped, grinning to herself. She hoped that Hermione had received the present from her and Harry alright, since her parents didn't exactly understand the whole owl thing.  
"Alright, alright," Uncle Moony said. "I'll be out in a minute, you two can go on downstairs - but don't open anything yet, Alright?"  
The twins hurried downstairs, Harry jumping two at a time and almost dragging a reluctant Calla down with him. They'd helped Uncle Moony to set up the tree a few days ago, and it was looking pretty spectacular, especially with the three stacks of presents underneath the tree. Usually the only presents Harry and Calla ever got were from Uncle Moony, and the occasional coin or box of tissues from the Dursleys, but there was far more waiting for them this year. "Woah," Harry said, eyes gleaming wide in anticipation. "That's a lot of presents."  
"We're practically Dudley," Calla whispered, jaw dropping open.  
Uncle Moony passed down the stairs a few moments later, and came to kneel beside them in front of the tree. "Right," he said. "Who's up first?"  
"Open what we got you!" Calla pleaded, bouncing up and down enthusiastically. Uncle Moony chuckled and reached for the rather expertly wrapped present, if the twins did say so themselves.  
He smiled when he unwrapped the two books, saying that he'd been wanting that specific edition of Fantastic Beasts for ages, and he was sure that the book on dark creatures would be really interesting. To Calla's mild irritation, his favourite gift seemed to be the dragon hide gloves that Harry had picked out, and he thanked them both with warm embraces, before picking out the gifts at the top of the twins' piles.  
"Here," he said, handing one each to Harry and Calla. "I hope you both like them."  
With exchanged excited glances, Calla and Harry opened their packages, Calla grinning when she saw what Uncle Moony had bought for her. A full set of coloured inks, watercolours, and acrylics that claimed to 'move with your brush' lay before her, complete with brushes and quills. "Uncle Moony, this is amazing!" she cried, setting it aside carefully and engulfing her godfather in a massive hug. "You shouldn't have!"  
"Oh, it's no problem, Calla," he said softly, returning the hug with a grin. "I thought you'd like it."  
"I love it!" Calla cried. "Thank you!"  
She pulled away from her godfather and turned to Harry, who was staring transfixed at his gift. "What'd you get, Harry?" Calla asked, peering over his shoulder.  
"It's Quidditch Through the Ages!" Harry exclaimed, though it looked like a lot more than just a book to Calla. "With a full behind the scenes of the Quidditch World Cups the 20th Century, and interviews with all of the teams, and look - Gwenog Jones from the Holyhead Harpies did a commentary on it! Ah, and a full set of practice snitches: Oh, Calla, you have to try this out with me later!"  
She stared at him. "That's great," Calla said weakly, for it did sound like the perfect gift for Harry. "But there's no way I'm getting up on a broom with you."  
Harry huffed, while Uncle Moony stifled his own chuckle, eyes bright. "I'm glad you both like your presents," he chuckled. "Now, you seem to both be rather popular with your classmates, so why don't you open the rest of your presents?"  
By the end of it, Calla was more than shocked by the extent of her haul. Harry had gotten her, as predicted, a book, which was about Charms and how it linked to other areas of Magic, and she tried to not consider the dig at her less than stellar magical abilities. He'd also gotten her a sketchbook with a picture of many moving people waving paintbrushes and brandishing pencils like swords, smiling at her through the page. From Hermione, Calla had received a book about Famous Potions Masters, which she set aside for reading later. Ron had sent a package full of sweets, including Calla's favourite chocolate frogs, to the twins to share, and Padma had given them each an assortment of interesting books. There wasn't anything from Daphne, and Calla found herself disheartened for a moment about the lack of gifts from her friend.  
"Nothing from Daphne," Harry commented, and Calla glared at him.  
"No, there isn't," she said shortly, crossing her arms. Under the tree, something caught her eye. "Hang on, there's still something under there."  
For a fleeting moment, Calla found herself hoping it was from Daphne, but from a glance at the name tag, it clearly wasn't. "Your father left this in my posssssion before he died," Harry read, and Calla heard Uncle Moony inhale sharply. "I thought you two ought to have it back. Use it well." He frowned.  
"Use it Well?" Calla echoes, confused. She turned to Uncle Moony, whi gestured for them to proceed in unwrapping it.  
Carefully, Harry opened the present, revealing a silky fabric that was almost invisible as it floated over him. "What the-"  
"An invisibility cloak," Uncle Moony said breathlessly. "That's - that was your father's invisibility cloak." Calla could have sworn she saw a wistful smile tugging on his lips. "We had a lot of memories with that thing. I suppose it's only right that it is passed on to you two." He grinned. "Go on, then. Try it on."  
With thrilled glances at one another, the twins pulled the cloak snugly around the both of them, finding that it was just large enough. "We're invisible!" Harry cried, and Calla stared at him.  
"That's why it's called an invisibility cloak, dummy," Calla huffed, but she was smiling as she spoke. She decided then, that this had to be the greatest Christmas ever; her and Harry and Uncle Moony, a proper little family. And when Harry dragged her outside with Uncle Moony's old Cleansweep, she didn't even protest at flying around with him a few feet off the ground, and for a moment could forget her fears.


End file.
